


Courage, Dear Heart!

by Jazz_2_chess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Dating, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hunters, M/M, Monster of the Week, Nightmares, Shy Derek Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, The Hale Pack - Freeform, The Pack Ships It, oblivious idiots in love, soft Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazz_2_chess/pseuds/Jazz_2_chess
Summary: Derek and Stiles are great friends, unfortunately. The pack will have to intervene if those two keep behaving like stubborn, oblivious idiots.Oh, and there is a new Big Bad on the loose.This is going to be just great.





	1. I love you tenderly...

 

 

_“Sometimes I wish I could read your mind, just to see how you really feel about me…”_

The soft beeping sound of the oven had Stiles nearly falling off the couch in his haste to get to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Derek stood up, all controlled grace, and told Stiles to stay put. Stiles, however, would not leave his cookies attended to by one Derek Hale. He remembered all too vividly what had happened on the pack’s Christmas party, when Derek had sneakily distracted Stiles with a Doctor Who re-run and had eaten all the cookies and the left-over dough by himself. When he joined the Alpha in the kitchen, his suspicions were proven correct. Derek was leaning over the cookies, seemingly inhaling the scent. Stiles noticed that two were already missing. He tutted. Derek swirled around looking like the kid that got caught with his hand in the jar. Which was an accurate metaphor. Derek’s ears flushed red, the only outward sign that he knew what he was doing was wrong.

“Tastes good,” he offered one of the cookies in his hand to Stiles, wincing when Stiles raised an eyebrow at him.

“I wasn’t going to eat all of them.”

“Lie.” Stiles said, a triumphant grin on his face when Derek blushed. Still, he took the cookie and moaned at the taste, when the chocolate chips melted in his mouth. After finishing his second piece of heaven, he saw Derek staring at him funnily.

“Something wrong, Sourwolf?” But the Alpha just shook his head and proceeded to eat like they hadn’t promised the pack to leave them at least some of their baked goods. Stiles dismissed the weird behaviour, seeing as it was a usual occurrence for Derek to zone out sometimes.

“Pups will be here around 7, Scott’s running late…” Stiles informed the Alpha. Derek nodded his okay but proceeded to stare at the cookies Stiles was putting into plastic boxes as if Stiles had taken his firstborn. It almost made Stiles waver. Almost.

“You talk to him about the pixies yet?” Derek asked from where he was looming, shoulders relaxed in a way that made Stiles’ stomach tingle pleasantly. He loved how much Derek had calmed down in the past two years.

“Yeah, he was actually-“ the doorbell rang and both Stiles and Derek shared a look of sudden alarm. It wasn’t 7 yet and the pack all had keys to Derek’s apartment.

“I’ve got it,” Derek said and disappeared in the hallway. Stiles was on high alert- years upon years of monsters haunting Beacon Hills will do that to you. Sometimes, Stiles questioned whether or not they were being paranoid but the statistics did lean a little heavy on odd occurrences, like ringing doorbells, more often being connected to the new Big Bad rather than not. He heaved a sigh of relieve when the door closed and Derek re-appeared holding a container of something smelling suspiciously like cinnamon buns in his hands and looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Neighbour.” Derek huffed, looking at anything but Stiles.

“Why does your neighbour bring you pastries?” Stiles had a hard time keeping the smirk from showing on his face. Derek was adorable when flustered.  

“I- she moved in recently and I- I might have” he stopped in the middle of the sentence, eyes downcast. Stiles nearly burst with affection at the sight.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He had to ask. There was no way he would let this go without a little bit of teasing first.

“I might have told her that you don’t-“ Derek’s face was bright red by the time he stopped talking. Annoyed with his own incompetence to finish the statement.

“That you don’t give me the cookies when you bake…” He trailed off, teeth biting into his lower lip, gaze on the floor and only looked up when Stiles made a sound similar to being choked. His concern quickly faded upon realising that Stiles was howling with laughter, doubled over and clutching his belly.

“You-“ Stiles wheezed, “Derek-“ tears were streaming down his face. Derek shortly wondered if he should feel hurt about being laughed at. But he didn’t. Stiles wasn’t maliciously making fun of him and even Derek himself could see how this situation must look like from the outside. He had talked to the woman in the elevator and had mentioned in passing that Stiles would keep the cookies for their friends and wouldn’t give them to him and she had showed up the next day with a box full of gingerbread.

Not his fault.

“You done?” Derek huffed and shuffled into the kitchen to place the container with the others.

As it turned out, Stiles wasn’t done for another ten minutes but after that they managed to start preparing dinner without any more interruptions. It was still strange to Derek how quiet Stiles got when he concentrated on something.

He had first discovered the change of behaviour when Stiles had cooked pasta for him after doing research at the Stilinski-house. Cooking dinner for the pack was a new occurrence, usually it was only Stiles and Derek at Stiles’ house.

Interestingly enough, while cooking, Stiles focused on the task at hand without flailing his hands or falling over. He was the picture of calm and collected, cutting onions with elegance that shouldn’t even be possible for someone who regularly forgot he could walk in a straight line. Derek didn’t know what to think about it. There were times when he appreciated the silence but more often than not, he started a conversation just to hear Stiles ramble about something or other.

One memorable evening, Derek had found himself listening attentively to the migration habits of wolves while barbecuing in Jackson’s backyard. He still didn’t know how on earth that topic had arisen but Stiles had talked so animatedly while marinatingmeat that Derek had been entranced. So much so that he hadn’t noticed the steak on the barbecue burning until Boyd had pushed him aside to put the fire out.

It hadn’t been one of his best moments.

He was ready to admit that.

And the worst part was that Stiles wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Derek had heard the other say so many times that he was clumsy and useless with a knife, unable to play lacrosse because he couldn’t coordinate his limbs. And yet here he was, manoeuvring gracefully as if he hadn’t ever done anything else. It was a miracle to Derek.

“You want carrots too?” Stiles’ voice snapped him out of his trance.

“You’re making carrots?” he asked unnecessarily.

Stiles rolled his eyes at him, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like “Duh.”

“What are we having again?” Derek was sure he had missed something. Usually the pack would eat pizza or some kind of pasta, both of which would not in any way shape or form justify carrots. Rare exceptions were barbecues or Stiles bringing the left-overs from his Dad. To say Derek was confused, was an understatement. That had Stiles stare at him intently as if he was contemplating hitting Derek over the head but thinking better of it since it would most likely hurt Stiles more than Derek.

Great.

“Are you alright?” Stiles had an eyebrow raised, a mannerism Derek felt proud to think he had copied from him.

“I was just telling you yesterday that I stumbled across this recipe- you know with Dad and everything- I went to this new bookstore- remember? When we went there with Isaac because he needed the books on- what was it?”

“Anatomy,” Derek supplied, indeed remembering that trip with Isaac nearly bursting with excitement in the back seat of the Jeep.

“Right-“ he flailed his arms as if dismissing the point, since it was not vital to his narration “and then I figured that maybe they had like recipes too? I mean, dude- I love pizza and take-out as much as the next guy but if we want us all to make it to forty, we need to start eating healthy or at least cook something once in a while. And I know you guys are wolves and you’ve got the metabolism of a cheetah but that doesn’t excuse…”

Derek didn’t have it in him to interrupt and simply ask what they were having. Stiles was so used to being ignored or interrupted that he had started to ramble more around Derek because Derek didn’t mind, so he let him talk until he was finished. He would arrive at the point, he always did, it just took a while.

“So, I was thinking that, with all the pack meetings, I could start cooking for you guys too- so I want to know if you want carrots with your steak, Derek Hale.” Derek pointed the knife at him accusingly, as if he knew that Derek had zoned out there for a bit. The minute though the word steak rang through to him, he was nearly plastered to Stiles’ side, knife completely forgotten.

“You’re making steak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question and Stiles didn’t take it as one. Instead, he stared at Derek with something soft in his eyes that Derek didn’t want to think too closely about.

“Need help?” Stiles scoffed and pushed Derek away from the stove, not bothered when all the shove did was make Derek laugh.

“Nope. I’ve got it, Big Guy.” Stiles resumed his cooking, the carrots safely out of Derek’s way after establishing that Derek did indeed hate the offending vegetable. He was a wolf, not a rabbit for God’s sake.

 

 

* * *

 

When Derek had argued about the carrots, Stiles had bit his tongue. He had wanted to comment on his bunny teeth so badly, but knew that Derek was insecure about them. So, he refrained. And he would like to emphasise that it had not been an easy feat.

Isaac barrelled into the loft ten minutes later, his curls dripping a sticky fluid onto the floor and his face crunched up in anger- or maybe hurt, Stiles decided after short inspection. Derek and Stiles communicated via staring before Derek embraced Isaac in a tight hug. Apparently, some guy of the opposing lacrosse-team had dumped his drink on Isaac’s head, drenching his hair in sticky juice.

Stiles’ anger boiled as quickly as it did every other time a member of his family was treated badly. He had stopped stirring the pot on the stove and instead stared at the wall in front of him, trying to figure out which of these assholes had been responsible when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Scott dealt with it…” Derek whispered into his ear, his breath making Stiles’ skin tingle. Stiles relaxed, but only a fraction. He made a mental note to hide a container of the chocolate chip cookies to give Isaac after dinner to guarantee that the pup would actually get to eat any. One couldn’t know with the way the pack inhaled every bit of sugar Stiles left lying around. When

Jackson entered the flat next, Isaac was curled in on himself on the couch, snuggling a pillow. Stiles didn’t even get to say hello before he stomped in the kitchen, a cut on his eyebrow already healing and demanded a beer from Derek.

The Alpha didn’t even argue and handed him one, along with some kitchen paper to clean the blood stains from his shirt and face.

“They still breathing?” Stiles asked over his shoulder, in a tone that sounded more nonchalant than was probably appropriate.

“Barely.” Jackson snarled, the anger simmering close to the surface. While Scott usually wasn’t one for violence, he didn’t take kindly to one of his being attacked, even if it was just a drink that was thrown and- according to Derek’s pestering- some insults to Isaac’s sexuality. So, instead of stepping in, he had let Jackson off the metaphorical leash and had turned a blind eye to fists flying like pouring rain.

Scott joined them barely ten minutes later, Allison and Lydia hot on his heels with equal expressions of disgust on their faces. Scott patted Jackson on the back before joining Isaac on the couch while the girls settled down in the kitchen to talk to Stiles and Derek.

Conversation- understandably- circled around Isaac and the fact that the player responsible wouldn’t be participating in the next game. If someone had told Stiles three years ago that he would one day thank Jackson for beating up a guy for insulting Isaac, Stiles would have laughed his ass off. That had been a long time ago though. Instead, he made sure to pile double the amount of steak on Jackson’s plate than the others got. The smile ticking in the corner of his lip was more than worth it.

Erica and Boyd didn’t join in on dinner since they had a date night out of town and Stiles was slightly grateful for it. Having to stop Erica from going on a rampage was difficult enough when it didn’t concern Isaac. The angel-haired boy was quickly turning into the pup of their pack and everyone felt more than a little protective of him, even though he didn’t stop insisting that he was indeed quite capable of taking care of himself. One could easily forget though, with the way Isaac looked and behaved, that he was one of their strongest fighters- fast, controlled, and very deadly when he needed to be.

Still, the angel face certainly made him look like a friendly cherub that Stiles wanted to cuddle for all eternity.

After dinner was finished and plates were being cleared from the table Stiles had dragged a reluctant Derek out to buy, Lydia put in a movie while Derek and Stiles disappeared in the kitchen once again.

“You think he got it?” Stiles asked when Derek handed him the forks to put in the dishwasher.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like Scott or Jackson will let him out of their sight when the other team is around. He won’t get that close again.” Stiles recognised the barely disguised aggravation in Derek’s voice and tried to remedy it.

“It’s not your fault.” Derek’s head snapped up.

“I didn’t say-“

“No, but you were thinking it.” And he had been. Stiles had seen it in the hunch of his shoulders, the scowl in his eyebrows.

“It’s just- I hate when something like this happens…” They had had to deal with comments of that kind since the moment Scott, Allison and Isaac had entered their relationship. With Stiles being bisexual himself it had hit him rather hard too, hearing people on the streets yell insults or listening to snickers among university students. Derek hadn’t taken lightly to it either, considering that it was his pack that was being attacked for being themselves.

“Still not your fault.” Stiles reached out to him, the physical contact seeming to lift a weight off of Derek’s shoulders that had been on him since Isaac stepped inside the loft.

“People are assholes, Derek. You should know that by now.” Derek’s lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving Stiles’ face.

“You’d think…” The Alpha grumbled then shoved Stiles to the side to do the dishes himself. Seriously, Stiles did them way too often anyway.

“I don’t mind helping…” Stiles mumbled but refrained from taking the plate back from Derek.

“Don’t you want to see the movie?” Derek asked, sounding as if the answer was somehow important, even when the question hadn’t been. Stiles shook his head. He liked those quiet moments with Derek.

This time, the smile was not only genuine, it was borderline pleased and Stiles tried hard not to read too much into it.

 

* * *

 

 

When the pack had left and it was only Derek and Stiles that were sprawled on the couch, comfortable silence settled. Derek’s eyes fixed on the clock of the TV and he did a double-take.

“Stiles! Stiles it’s two thirty in the morning.”

Fuck. The Sheriff was going to kill both of them.

“Relax, Sourwolf. I told my Dad, it’d be late. I’m an adult, you know…” He chuckled softly, apparently completely unfazed. And Derek had to relent a bit there. Because Stiles was indeed an adult, however that had happened and he could stay out for however long he wanted to. Still, Derek didn't want the Sheriff to think he was hogging his son. For entirely unrelated reasons, of course.

“But-“ He tried to argue but was shut down almost immediately. 

“No buts-“ Stiles giggled at the play of words then sat up straight.

“I’ll just drive myself home and tell him that pack night went on longer- it’s not like I have a curfew.” He was already on his way to the door before Derek spoke up.

“Stay- I mean- I- it’s late- you can- you can have the couch.” He didn’t know what had possessed him to offer. And great, now Stiles was looking at him with curiosity.

“Really? You’d be okay with that?” It was a tough topic to breach and they both were quite aware of the fact.

“Yes.” Derek answered, surprised by his own determination.

“You got a spare blanket?” Stiles asked while making himself comfortable on the couch. Derek couldn’t help but let the smile slip. Maybe Stiles’ presence would make the night a fraction better.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning for a good fifteen minutes before he realised he didn’t have his pillow. Suddenly, a scream had him sit up. Another quickly followed, sounding anguished and broken. It took him a minute to recognise Derek’s voice as the source of the scream. Without thinking too much about it, Stiles ran up the stairs and burst into Derek’s bedroom. The wolf was writhing on the sheets, sweating like crazy and looking distraught.

The screaming turned into pleading, low forced sounds.

“Please- please stop- please…” It broke Stiles’ heart and he threw himself into motion. He grabbed Derek’s hands to stop him from moving, in hopes of waking him up and when that didn’t help, he yelled at Derek to open his eyes, to wake up. A sudden flare of red and he was on his back, fangs snapping in his face an inch away from his nose.

“Derek! Derek, it’s me…” The wolf froze on top of him.

“Stiles! Fuck!” within a second Derek was scrambling away from him, hitting his knee on the bedside table.

“Derek- stop- it’s okay…” Stiles held up his hands to show he was not a threat then motioned for Derek to sit down. Reluctantly, Derek did although he kept his distance.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked tentatively and watched Derek’s breathing pick up again and his shoulders climb up to his chin. A shake of his head followed by a hesitant nod had him reach for Derek only to stop half way there.

“Are you okay with me touching you right now?” Derek didn’t move for a good minute but when he did, he climbed back into bed and settled beside Stiles.

“Is that okay?” he asked, hating how loud his voice sounded in the quiet room.

“Alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered into the dark. Stiles whipped around to stare at him incredulously.

“For what?”

“Waking you up- I just- I didn’t think I’d get them with you here.”

“But you get them often?” Derek simply nodded, not ready to admit to a number just yet.

“What are they about?” But Derek’s brain short-circuited. The images came back to him like a flood and it took all he had not to wolf out again. Stiles’ scent helped keep him grounded. A while ago that would have scared him, the fact that his anchor had shifted to another person. But now, all it did was calm him.

Especially, when Stiles was so close.

“Stay with me- that’s it…” he hadn’t realised how much time had passed before he made himself snap out of it.

“You wanna hear about mine? About how I refused to sleep because I was so afraid I wouldn’t wake up again? How, when I did- wake up, I mean- people were dying like flies around me? It’s okay, Derek- I get it, you know? So, whatever it is, I promise you, I won’t judge, it won’t change a thing.” Derek stared at the bedding when he felt fingers lift his chin.

“I promise, Derek.” His heart didn’t stutter, the beat was steady.

“Kate- it’s… I don’t know…” He didn’t know how to word it, how to say the words.

“Take your time.”

And time it took.

An hour or two before Derek was ready to tell Stiles about what she had done. How that was the reason for him running off on his own when he had. How he had been only fifteen years old before she had taken everything from him, how he still remembered her smell, the flames of the fire, everything that had happened after. And Stiles didn’t pity him, didn’t say it was okay and it wasn’t his fault. Because if there was one thing Stiles understood better than anyone else, it was guilt.

So Stiles didn’t interrupt to defend him or fill the silence with meaningless phrases, he simply held him tighter until the first beams of sunlight lifted the darkness from his bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles hated Pixies.

They were loud, obnoxious and vicious beasts. Granted, Scott had stumbled into her home and had wreaked havoc like there was no tomorrow but that was no free-for-all to terrorise the town. Cue to Stiles stomping through the woods, carrying a bag of herbs Deaton had given him with clear instructions on how to place them in a circle around the tree the Pixies called their sacred centre and barking into his phone with Derek on the other end.

The Alpha was currently approaching from the other side of the preserve, a similar bag in hand and equally pissed off at Scott and the situation itself. Just as he rounded a corner- not without wondering if there even were corners in a forest- he bumped into the Alpha. If it weren’t for Derek’s quick reflexes, Stiles would have toppled over. Instead, a strong arm pulled him upwards.

“Thanks,” Stiles huffed. Fortunately, it looked like nothing had spilled out of the bag, which would have been a hassle to pick back up.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just walk here together,” Derek sounded even more grumpy than usual.

“Are you pouting?” Stiles had trouble keeping the grin from spreading on his face. Derek’s shoulders crawled up to his ears, red flushing his cheeks.

“Oh my God! You totally are!” He looked adorable, like an angry bunny. Stiles refrained from taking a picture and sending it to Erica. But _God_ did he want to.

“Shut up!” Derek snarled but it lacked heat.

“Anyway- you know why Deaton told us to come from two ends.” Stiles hadn’t been too happy about running around the woods to meet Derek in the middle either.

“The process of closing in a circle around their sacred tree from both sides, the water and the forest- I know, Stiles.”

“Well, when you word it like that it sounds ridiculous!” Stiles flailed his arms around, almost dropping the bag in the process.

“That’s because it is!” He paused while studying the tree in front of them that looked for all the world as if it was harmless and not bursting full of pixie-magic. Stiles didn’t deem it worth an answer.

“Ready?” he asked, keeping the bag firmly in hand. Derek nodded.

And all hell broke loose.

The second the herbs touched the tree, Pixies flew out of it like wasps out of their nest. Their sharp little claws dug holes into Stiles’ sweater, ripped apart material until they hit skin. Stiles felt the skin break and swung his arms around to hit as many of them as possible. Beside him, Derek growled and dumped the whole bag over the tree. The Pixies screeched so loudly, Stiles worried about his eardrums.

He emptied his bag and was immediately ambushed by two Pixies tearing at his hair and slicing into his hands.

The incantation Stiles had memorised was spat out with blood from a split lip. It lasted approximately two minutes before the Pixies finally relented. The uproar concentrated on the tree instead when they realised that it- like any other tree in the circle Stiles and Derek had drawn- was uninhabitable. With one last flap of wings and something that sounded like a colourful string of curses, they flew up to the sky in a swarm of blue. Stiles took a moment to just breathe, arms stemmed into his sides and vision blurring.

The scratches weren’t deep or life-threatening but the whole thing had been exhausting.

And his arms hurt like a bitch.

“Alright?” Derek reached out to wipe some blood off his face. Stiles looked up into stormy eyes full of softness and felt his heart skip a beat.

Thankfully, Derek didn’t comment on it. He simply picked the bag off the ground and gestured for Stiles to follow him to the Camaro. Since Roscoe was still at the garage getting a few dents removed that he had had Jackson to thank- and pay- for, Stiles had been forced to walk all the way from Deaton’s to the preserve and then some. They didn’t talk on the way back but it was, what Stiles considered, comfortable silence.

Once they reached the car, Derek turned the heat up, obviously having noticed that Stiles was shivering under his ripped shirt.

The loft was thankfully empty- apart from a dosing Isaac. Derek immediately went into the kitchen to heat up some of the left-overs while Stiles changed in the bathroom. The door closed behind him, offering some privacy, and he finally shrugged out of the remains of his hoodie. He stared at it with a heavy heart, it being his favourite and all.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the last years, Stiles had noticed that Derek seemed to do a double-take whenever Stiles wore that red hoodie of his, so he had made a mental note to wear it more often.

Pity that it had been destroyed beyond means of saving. With clammy fingers Stiles pulled out the emergency kit and disinfected the scratches covering his body. Some were deeper than he had initially thought and burned like hell when they came in contact with the ointment. He suppressed a hiss, aware that every sound remotely signifying pain would call Derek up here and he didn’t want that to happen.

It wasn’t a big deal. None of the wounds were life-threatening. He didn’t like to be fussed over- which happened quite a lot since he was always the one hurting himself or getting hurt. Maybe his clumsiness did play a part in that, he was ready to admit that.

After checking his reflection in the mirror and deeming himself cleaned up enough to descend downstairs, he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from Isaac who had evidently awoken. Even though he was still sore, he hugged back, feeling himself breathe freely again. Derek called for them to get their plates with dinner on them.

If he winced softly while sitting down, nobody had to know. It hadn’t been a big deal anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

When he reached his house and saw the cruiser in the driveway, Stiles felt himself starting to sweat. His Dad had made him promise to talk tonight. And Stiles didn’t know what to say. However, when he opened the door, he was pulled into a tight hug that would result in his wounds re-opening but he didn’t complain. After asking the reason, his Dad simply said he was glad Stiles was home and then proceeded to ask about pack night.

When it came to Derek, Stiles found himself talking about half an hour about how amazing Derek was with Isaac, when a thought occurred to him.

He went silent.

“Ah, you figured it out, then.” His Dad patted him on the back and grabbed two beers from the fridge. Stiles was too out of it to even take it.

“Son? You alright?” But nothing was alright. Because Stiles had suddenly realised what the warm feeling was that he got whenever Derek bought his favourite kind of sweets, how his skin tingled whenever the wolf brushed against him, how his heart raced whenever Derek would lean in close to whisper into his ear.

He was in love.

Stiles Stilinski was in love with Derek Hale.

_Fuck._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The pack was assembled in the burger joint, having ordered some water and milkshakes and deciding on what to eat. Jackson grumbled about not having time for this even though all of them- humans and Banshee included- knew it was a lie. Scott stared at Allison like a happy puppy while his hands were wrapped around Isaac’s.

To the majority of them, they had an interesting dynamic in their three-way relationship. They had discussed the possibility of marriage and children early on which had Stiles suspecting the bond to be quite deep. But it seemed to work well for them, no teaming up against each other and no favouritism. Stiles knew it had been Scott’s biggest concern that he would lose one of them to the other.

So far, this was not the case and Stiles was proud of them for managing so well. He loved to see them happy. While staring at Erica and Boyd; Isaac, Allison and Scott; and Jackson bickering with Lydia, he suddenly felt a sense of loneliness. Derek would usually sit beside him, touching him from shoulder to thigh and taking his milkshake from him whenever he would start to ramble based on the sugar intake.

Now, however, he was noticeably absent. Or at least he was noticeably absent to Stiles. Just then, his phone binged, signalling an incoming message. He opened it and felt his cheeks flush when Derek’s name popped up.

_How’s lunch? Alabama is lonely without you._

Stiles’ heart beat skyrocketed which got him a raised eyebrow from Scott but nobody else noticed. He answered quickly, not wanting to let Derek wait.

_Nice. Miss you though. Not the same when the pack isn’t all there._

He hesitated for a minute, not sure if admitting that would cost him anything or make it weird. The decision was easy when he remembered how Derek reacted to someone telling him nice things.

God, Stiles wanted to tell him nice things every day. The smile that followed was always blinding.

_Miss you too. Enjoy the fries. Don’t let Erica bully you into cancelling the perimeter-run._

Stiles smiled at the screen. Leave it to Derek to worry about the territory when he wasn’t present and there had not been a threat in weeks. Really, sometimes Stiles thought he needed to get a grip. This was bordering on paranoid. But, to be fair, weeks without at least one beast on a rampage was essentially unheard of in Beacon Hills.

Apart from that, Stiles tried not to feel too insulted at the implication that he would let Erica skip her patrol. Stiles wasn’t Derek’s second in command for nothing.

Scott had been irritated at first, when Derek had mentioned in passing that Stiles was his second, but, in the end, had simply rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles, telling him that he demanded better treatment since he was Stiles’ favourite. Stiles hadn’t had it in him to tell Scott that Isaac was in fact his favourite.

“Jeez can you stop smiling at your screen like you smoked some weed?” He was ripped out of his reverie when Erica snapped the phone from his grip and wouldn’t give it back no matter the means he used to pry it out of her fingers.

“You smell like him all the time. It’s nauseating!” Erica accused with a fry pointing at him.

“I’m pack.” Stiles countered, sick of having to explain himself.

“So, you have no feelings for him whatsoever? Your heart doesn’t skip when he enters a room? Your breath doesn’t come faster? You don’t blush seven shades of red?” Lydia asked in a honey-sweet voice.

“Because that would be ridiculous, right? It’s not like half the people here are weres that can monitor your chemo-signals…” She trailed off, looking smug.

“We’re not dating.” Stiles insisted, while a voice in his head added a quiet _unfortunately_ to the end of that statement.

“Officially.” Isaac chimed in, buzzing in his seat as if his entire body was being electrified.

“Neither officially nor unofficially. I am not dating Derek Hale.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so forceful.

“Because you don’t think he wants you to or because _you_ don’t want to.” Damn Allison and her dimpled smiles. Stiles threw his hands in the air in defeat, let out a long-suffering sigh and relented.

“Yes, okay. Fine. You’re right. I like him.” Erica’s cheer was met with a scowl from the table opposite them.

“But nothing is going to happen. He doesn’t like me like that. We’re good friends, that’s it.” Stiles fought vehemently against the sinking of his stomach. Admitting those words made them so much more real and so much more painful.

“You think that?” Jackson apparently thought this moment to be the one worthy of grabbing his attention.

“Well, then you’re dumber than I thought.” He redirected his eyes to the phone in his hands and left Stiles spluttering indignantly.

The waitress approached with lunch then and the discussion was postponed to a later date.

At least to Stiles’ knowledge.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott wasn’t proud of participating in the group project titled loosely “Get-Stiles-and-Derek-together”. But even he had to acknowledge that the sexual tension in the air made him choke and the heart eyes were nauseating.

Hence, the GSaDT-project.

The pack worked out a way to send those idiots on four separate dates, watched Stiles save Derek out of a mountain-ash circle and Derek in turn save Stiles from a rogue Omega without anything more happening than them falling even harder for each other.

It was ridiculous.

Scott wondered briefly, how his relationship with three people in it- **_three, Stiles!_** \- had been easier to negotiate. Lydia grew frustrated which made Jackson angrier than usual, Isaac whined whenever Stiles and Derek behaved like the idiots they were and he even caught Allison grind her teeth when Stiles ducked his way out of hugging Derek in fear the wolf would pick up on the spike of arousal everyone could see- if not smell.

That being said, however much they were in love with each other, it didn’t make them any less prone to fight like cats and dogs. Which- granted- was a bad metaphor.

Scott had just walked into an argument so heated that Stiles was flushed all over and Derek’s eyes were Alpha red.

He wondered briefly what had them butting heads that hard when Stiles yelled at Derek to

“Stop being such an idiot!”

“How am I being an idiot?”

Even Scott, from his vantage point hidden behind the door to the living room, knew that this would set Stiles off like nothing else.

“Where to start!” Yep. The sarcasm was strong. “Maybe because you didn’t even tell me? Me, Derek! I am your second- you can’t just run off to fuck knows where and expect it to work!” Scott detected a faint sense of hurt and a lot of anger, but underneath all that was so much worry, it threatened to suffocate him.

“It was a cold trace anyway! She wasn’t even there!”

“But she could have been! She could have come back- laid a trap- fuck knows what! And then what?” Stiles’ voice was at least two octaves too high to sound acceptable for even normal hearing range but Derek didn’t flinch.

“But she wasn’t! Nothing happened!” Scott barely contained the snort. Leave it to Derek to dismiss the risk of her- whoever she was- being there. He might not know **_whom_** they were arguing about but it was abundantly clear **_what_** they were arguing about. Namely, that Derek had run in on his own again.

“But she could have been! Why don’t you get that? How do you not see that?”

“How do you not see that everything is fine! I went there, I looked around, nothing happened!” Derek’s voice rose, matching Stiles step for step.

“It’s not fine! **_Fuck!_** ” Stiles snapped. “Derek, I- we worry, okay? When you don’t pick up and nobody knows where you are!” Scott noticed Derek looking sheepish at the words.

“I didn’t-“ he stopped mid-sentence “I didn’t think it was a big deal…”

“You didn’t think it was a big deal…” Stiles had gotten oddly quiet in a way Scott recognised of him being deep in thoughts.

“Derek-“ the Alpha looked up from where his eyes were trained on the floor. “Derek, listen to me.” When Derek nodded, Stiles continued.

“I worry when I don’t know where you’ve gone to. It’s not because I don’t trust that you can handle it- you’re a good Alpha, you know I trust you. It’s just- they want you dead and I can’t- I can’t let that happen!” Scott didn’t need to see to know that there were tears in his friend’s eyes.

“I won’t die.” Derek huffed, obviously uncomfortable with the discussion.

“Don’t underestimate her!” Stiles barked out with so much anger in his voice it seemed to startle the Alpha.

“I just- look- I don’t expect you to put us in danger by taking us with you.” Derek’s conveniently timed cough expressed Scott’s sentiment that both of them knew Stiles would expect exactly that.

“Just- can you promise me to at least call? Tell me where you are, what you’re going up against? Just in case something happens?” It had to be the pleading tone that softened Derek’s heart.

“I’ll try,” he reluctantly agreed. Scott heard Stiles heave a sigh of relief. He knew how much it aggravated him not to know where Derek was, what he was doing, who he was with. Scott couldn’t help but imagine himself in Stiles’ place, unable to tell Derek what he felt for fear of rejection and constantly worrying that it would be too late because the Alpha had gotten himself captured again. It wasn’t a position he envied.

“Scott- stop hiding behind the door and get your ass in here!” Derek bellowed. Scott’s heart jumped in his chest at being discovered.

He couldn’t detect whether Derek had known he was there all along.

But if he did, he didn’t comment on it.

 

* * *

 

 

After Scott had left Derek asked Stiles to stay for dinner, his heart in his throat and beating heavily. For the first time, Derek himself brought out the pans to cook for them. Stiles was delighted to assist, staring over Derek’s shoulder and adding his two-cents every now and then.

In the end, mouth-watering pasta was put on two plates and Stiles was ready to propose to Derek upon tasting the first fork of noodles. The wolf smiled at him all the while through dinner with something akin to contentment in his eyes. It wasn’t until they were cuddled up on the couch, limbs entangled and Derek humming softly into his ear when Stiles suddenly became acutely aware of the situation.

He froze where he was comfortably pressed against Derek, his heart beating up to his ears. They had had so many joined evenings, pack nights and whatnot but this was different.

And then it finally dawned on him.

This was a date.

**_Shit!_ **

Stiles’ brain was working overtime in his head while Derek simply tightened his grip around his chest and asked if everything was alright. The hysterical laugh bubbling in Stiles’ stomach was suppressed but only barely. He managed to reign in the inner freak-out before excusing himself and power-walking to the bathroom.

Once inside, safely locked away from stupidly attractive werewolves and their surprisingly soft chests, he stared at himself in the mirror.

There was a flush prominent on his cheeks, his eyes were glassy. He didn’t know what to do with himself. With trembling hands, he dialled Lydia’s number- Scott would only freak out alongside him. After two rings, the strawberry-blonde goddess deemed this important enough to pick up and Stiles wasted no time before screeching into the receiver.

“Am I dating Derek?!?” Silence followed, but only briefly.

“And this is phrased as a question why?” Lydia asked, sounding bored and thoroughly unbothered.

“What do you mean why? **_Lydia!_** I just asked you if I’m dating Derek! As in Hale! Fuck! I’m dating Derek Hale!” One hand was pulling his hair while the other had trouble keeping the phone pressed against his ear. He was suddenly immensely grateful for the soundproof walls surrounding the bathroom.

“Congrats?” He was going to murder her. Friendship be damned, he was going to kill her.

“Lydia!”

“What?” She had the nerve to sound confused.

“What am I doing?!?” He was freaking out. His breathing was too fast, his head was spinning.

“Stiles! Listen to me! There is no need to panic. You two have been doing that thing for a while, okay?” Yeah, no. They hadn’t been doing that thing for a while. They had been going out as friends.

“Friends! We’re friends, that’s it!” Stiles screeched, wincing at the volume. He really didn’t want to test how well Derek’s wolf hearing worked.

“Shut it, Stilinski!” Jackson’s voice suddenly piped up. Stiles was one second away from crawling through the receiver and cuffing the Kanima over the head.

“He likes you, you like him now get your ass down there, quit freaking out like it’s a big deal and man the fuck up!” With that, the call was disconnected, leaving Stiles with deafening silence only broken by his laboured breathing.

He didn’t have time to re-dial or even be angry over the fact that Lydia had let Jackson of all people try talking him out of the panic attack he was having because there was a sudden sharp knock on the door.

“Stiles?” he bit his fist, knuckles white.

“Are you alright? I paused the movie, so you won’t miss anything…” and _God_ , did he have to be so considerate, sound so concerned? Shame clouded Stiles’ thoughts. Here he was, whining about dating Derek when in actuality, all he had wanted for a long time was to date Derek.

Yeah, okay, phrased like that it sounded terrible. He just hadn’t known how to handle the situation, the shift in relationship.

“I’m good, sorry.” He said absentmindedly before remembering that Derek couldn’t hear him.

“Should I-“ He paused, knuckles rapping on the door softly “You want me to wait downstairs?” That was the moment when Stiles decided to fuck it and ripped the door open.

“Are we dating?” The flinch that went through Derek was nothing short of spectacular. Stiles realised then that maybe there would have been a better way to do this but hey, nobody could accuse him of making things easy.

“I- I don’t- Stiles-“ Stiles’ heart broke at how insecure he sounded, helpless even.

“Let me try to rephrase that.” Derek’s eyes wouldn’t meet his, the floor appeared to suddenly be the most interesting thing in the world.

“Do you want to date me?” It cost him everything he had to ask. All the times when he had been shut down with excuses and _thanks but no_ came rushing back, making his hands clammy with sweat.

“Derek?” the Alpha looked up, eyes tinged red and surged forward. Lips connected harshly, teeth clashed against each other. Everywhere Derek’s fingers roamed over Stiles’ arms his skin felt like it was on fire.

When they separated for a much-needed breathing-pause, Stiles chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Even though the kiss seemed like a clear indicator, Stiles couldn’t help but ask.

“Definitely a yes.” Derek nodded, looking earnest and adorable.

“Good. Great. I mean- glad that we talked about it.” He was rambling. He knew he was rambling. But the panic was still there at the prospect of things changing. But before he could even so much as start hyperventilating, Derek pulled him flush against his chest. The wolf buried his nose in Stiles’ hair, breathing in deeply.

“I like it when you smell like us- like home…” It was whispered so softly against Stiles’ skin that goose bumps erupted all over his neck. His breathing evened out, the smell of wood and rain oozing off Derek somehow soothing, like something familiar, grounding.

“Okay?” Derek didn’t let go until Stiles’ hands fell off his shoulders. All the way down the stairs, Stiles held onto Derek’s arm, needing it to steady him.

Only when he sank back against the couch cushion did the normalcy of watching a movie with Derek occur to him. The image was completed when Isaac came barrelling into the living room and threw himself down on the couch so that he was sprawled out across both of them.

For the first time, Stiles felt like he could breathe freely without fearing for the other shoe to drop or the world being swept out from under his feet. Content. He felt content.

And if he allowed himself to think it, he would even say he was happy.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, the universe had it out for him and he couldn’t help but think it was turning into a personal vendetta. Two weeks after that fateful night, the pack found themselves in the preserve again, facing off against the monster of the week. Or so Stiles thought.

The thing had been running around town playing pranks that ended deadly more often than not. They had been gruesome, on the verge of cruel. Stiles had tried to work out a pattern or at least draw a conclusion as to what its motive was, but truth was, he hadn’t been able to.

When they approached, however, it quickly became clear of how utterly unprepared they were.

The thing- fairy or whatever- wasn’t like any of the others had been. It had an aura the wolves shrunk unconsciously away from, one that Stiles- thanks to his spark- could see hovering around it. One word came to mind when he looked at it: dark. Never had he seen anything resembling such all-consuming darkness. The human-looking thing bared its teeth in something akin to a smile when it saw them approach. About seven alarm bells went off in Stiles’ head at the sight.

And it took him a minute to figure out why every instinct was screaming at him to get the pack to safety.

The thing didn’t look scared. It was being cornered by a pack of wolves and a Banshee, not to forget two hunters and it still didn’t look scared. In fact, Stiles was pretty sure, it looked almost amused if not entirely relaxed.

And he had seen that look on other faces before that. On faces that weren’t afraid because they knew something their opponent didn’t. And whatever it was, it was not good.  

“Ah, wolves…” the thing- fairy?- said, sounding curious but not overly concerned and talking in something that Stiles suspected was an Irish accent- or Scottish maybe?

“But not really.” Stiles felt rather than saw the pack pause at the words. What did it mean, not really?

“How is it that neither of you possesses the gift to shift fully, I wonder…” it talked as if this wasn’t a fight just on the verge of happening but rather an interesting discussion about the latest development in research.

“None of your business!” Derek snarled to his right. It made Stiles pause, thinking that Derek knew something the rest of the pack- Stiles included- didn't. The thing tutted in a condescending way as if talking to children.

“But it is. You see, it is not every day I find myself in the company of such an interesting pack of half-wolves. And a…” he fell back into silence while taking a step closer to Lydia.

Jackson reacted promptly and shoved her behind his back.

Stiles had one second to think this hadn’t been a great idea when the thing lifted its finger and let Jackson fly through the air and land harshly on the ground. Derek howled in anger but didn’t move. Stiles thought it odd when he realised that he was immobilised too. Jackson didn’t sit up but Stiles saw his rib cage move up and down steadily.

It was all he had to assure himself that his friend was still alive.

“Now that is no way to have a civilised conversation.” The thing continued on its way to Lydia, pushing a stray hair out of her face.

“I see death around you.” It said, wonder in its voice “A wailing woman- how curious…” Stiles saw Lydia trying to shift away.

“Banshee!” She pressed out between her clenched teeth, an air of superiority around her that Stiles was eternal proud of her for. Even in the face of danger she did not give an inch.

“Such beauty, such intelligence.” The thing turned to Stiles.

“And you…” Derek, who had been breathing heavily beside him stiffened.

“There is something about you, isn’t there?” Stiles wanted to divert its attention, not comfortable with having it scrutinise him.

“Hm… spark?” He shook his head, then seemed to regroup “No, not a spark- more that that“ It paused as if to build up the suspense.

_“Fire!”_

Derek flinched at the word.

“Determined, loyal, so full of energy…” a cold hand was pressed against his cheek, making him want to turn away, to push and shove but nothing happened.

“Not an Alpha, no, but an Alpha’s power-“

What?  

Somewhere in there, Stiles had lost the red cord.

“You’ll make an excellent Alpha’s mate… pity…” A roar echoed through the trees so loudly it hurt Stiles’ ears. Derek was shifting, snarling and showing his fangs.

“Ah, my apologies.” the thing stepped away from him and turned to Derek. Stiles’ insides clenched in fear.

“Leave him alone!” Derek’s words were garbled up in his mouth while he was fighting against the invisible barrier holding him back. Stiles decided to postpone thinking about the Alpha mate comment and instead concentrated on that spark inside him and shielding Derek as best as he could from what was going to be an attack. He could feel the danger approaching in every step the thing took towards the Alpha.

“It is a pity…” The thing kept talking as if none of them were there. When he reached Derek Scott’s growl rang loudly in Stiles’ ears. His presence was strong and the threat clear in his stance. Even though that thing wasn’t going to be swayed by a Beta, Stiles was thankful for the support. It lasted barely a minute before Derek’s eyes widened and he let out a pained noise.

“What are you doing?!? Stop it!” Stiles yelled from his spot. Fear spiked his veins and made its way to his heart, leaving cold in its wake until his body was covered in perspiration.

“It will simply teach him a lesson.” Its fingers were inches away from Derek’s forehead, the wolf fighting to lean away, to do something. But he couldn’t.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Stiles bellowed, throwing his spark against the barrier but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, it felt as if his powers were decreasing, not the prominent force he knew them to be.

The pack beside him was silent. He saw out of the corner of his eyes that Erica and Boyd were frozen in space just like Stiles and Scott, that Lydia was screaming her head off but no sound came out. Allison’s arrows seemed glued together. And then his gaze caught Isaac’s.

One look and he knew there was something wrong. The kid wasn’t looking back at him, instead his eyes were fixed somewhere above his head where Stiles couldn’t see. It dawned on him then what the thing was doing. It was not only immobilising their bodies, it was taking their chance to fight. Erica, Boyd, Scott, they were physical, but Isaac- Isaac was as much a good fighter as he was a quick thinker- and that thing had taken it away by putting him back into that goddamned freezer, immobilising him somewhere he couldn’t escape.

Blind, hot rage shot through him, made his spark flare up in red heat.

“Ah there it is…” The thing said, watching Stiles out of curious eyes. It had stopped circling Derek and instead was focussed on Stiles. And Stiles was thankful. Let it come for him. At least Derek wouldn’t be harmed.

“Is he yours too? Is that why you remain unmated?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but I can guarantee you that the second I get out of this damn barrier, I will have your head on a platter.” Stiles snarled, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Feisty. I like it.” The thing grinned that horrible half-smirk again then turned back to Derek.

“Now, where were we…” Once again that finger was pointed, but this time, it wasn’t deterred.

“Don’t touch him! Don’t you fucking dare touch him!” Stiles heard the howls of every wolf in his pack in unison, giving him strength.

“It is just a lesson, little Spark.”

Its fingernail touched Derek’s head. Derek flinched. Then his eyes flared red, vibrant like never before. And suddenly, they didn’t anymore. His claws retracted, his fangs were gone. Red turned into green. The Alpha looked around, disoriented.

Stiles had watched the transformation, unsure what was going on. But he knew one thing for sure. He was going to kill that thing. Maybe not today. But he would. For Isaac, for Lydia, for Derek. For all of them. Whatever it had done to Derek, it would pay a thousand-fold.

“Let. Him. _Go!_ ” Stiles snarled. And then he shoved. Every bit of power he had was put into that one move. He felt it when the barrier burst into pieces. The grin on the thing’s face froze, it took a step back.

The moment it stopped touching Derek, he fell to his knees, eyes fluttering shut. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

“What did you do? What have you done to him you sick bastard?” Stiles was vaguely aware that the others were still caught but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was Derek’s motionless figure on the ground.

“I taught him a lesson.” The fire flared up again, making Stiles’ skin tingle with heat and his eyes light up. Once again, the thing stepped back, hands stretched out in a defensive gesture.

“What lesson!”

“You will see soon enough, young Spark.” Before Stiles could release another wave of magical energy, the thing snapped its fingers, the grin back in place and disappeared into thin air. The barriers fell the moment it was gone. Stiles was by Derek’s side, listening for a pulse and nearly fainting in relief when he felt it strong under his fingertips.

“Deaton!” Scott barked out, both hands under Derek’s shoulders and already lifting. Stiles noticed that Erica and Boyd were crowding a shivering Isaac. Stiles hesitated for a second, looking at the wolf but Isaac just shook his hand, gestured for him to go.

So, Stiles did.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek opened his eyes and was almost blinded by the light above his head. The next thing that occurred to him was that he was naked and half covered by a sheet which he was immensely thankful for.

“Derek.” Deaton’s voice greeted him as if talking about the weather. Derek had long ago learned not to question the druid’s methods. Still, something didn’t sit right with him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Then another voice registered. Stiles. It took a minute for him to figure out what had set him off in the first place. Both their voices were quieter, not as nuanced as they usually were. It freaked him out.

“How-” Stiles took a deep breath then tried again “how are you feeling?” Something was wrong here. It was Stiles’ voice but he couldn’t be here. Derek didn’t hear his frantic heart-beat and now that he thought about it, he also couldn’t hear Deaton’s.

He scrambled up from where he was lying, bringing as much distance between him and them as possible in the small office.

“Derek- Derek stop it- calm down!” His thoughts were blurry, he couldn’t remember what had happened. Then he tried to use his sense of smell to figure out if it really was Stiles in front of him. All he got was the smell of disinfectant and some rubber gloves.

“The night in the pool- you dialled a number- which was it!” Stiles- or whatever he was- looked confused, as if Derek was the strange one here.

“Which was it!” He was trying to shift but nothing happened. Panic, utter panic flashed through him. He felt around for his wolf only to find it gone. As if it had never been there.

“Scott’s- it was Scott’s but he hung up on me.” Stiles stated, his eyes never leaving Derek.

“Fuck.” Derek sank down against the wall and Stiles was on him in an instant.

“What’s wrong? Derek, tell me!” The concern was real, Derek could tell. But it didn’t matter. Everything was wrong, the smell too dull, the sound too quiet. He felt as if someone had robbed him of all his senses. He held onto Stiles’ hands like a lifeline, an anchor.

Stiles looked ready to cry, shaking Derek’s shoulders and asking the same question over and over again.

“I can’t feel it-“ The confusion lasted only as long as Derek’s next sentence took to stumble out of his mouth.

“I can’t feel my wolf. He’s gone…” And then it occurred to him what was going on, what it meant that his wolf wasn’t there.

_He was human._


	2. I love you tragically...

 

_"Rock bottom will teach you lessons that mountain tops never will..."_

 

 

The weeks to follow were hard for Derek and for the pack too. They had seemingly lost not only a fellow member of the pack but their Alpha and it had them on edge. Erica explained it to Stiles one morning over coffee.

“It’s like the bond is muted. He’s still there but not as strong.” She scratched her arms as if feeling itchy.

“Yeah, he’s constantly calling like everyone because he can’t feel them, it’s driving him up the walls.” Stiles said, exasperatedly. He had made up a system so that there was always someone Derek could call if he was feeling particularly lonely. Unfortunately, knowing Derek, it hadn’t worked even in the slightest.

At first, the pack had thought he had handled it quite well, until Stiles had walked into the loft and had found Derek sobbing on the kitchen floor. The wolf had quickly denied having had any problems whatsoever but the evidence had been pretty hard to ignore. Stiles had realised by the time Derek had calmed down that the Alpha hadn’t wanted to asked for help in fear of sounding weak or too needy.

Stiles had nearly blown up with indignation. A solution was quickly talked about, Derek sensing Stiles’ emotions running high without even having supernatural senses, and had tried to de-escalate. In the end, Stiles had offered to stay over for as long as this situation was unresolved. His Dad had rolled his eyes quite a bit but after he had seen Derek first hand, he had agreed quickly. Stiles pushed the thoughts of this being too close to actual moving-in to the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek was miserable. Not only did he hate the fact that he wasn’t able to tell if the pack was okay but he also missed the way Stiles smelled when he slept in Derek’s bed. He would have given everything to hear the skip in Stiles’ heart beat when he kissed that particular spot behind his ear.

But what bothered him most was that he couldn’t decipher if Stiles was lying to him when he told him he was fine. More often than not had he caught Stiles clenching his teeth when he bumped into a locker or hissing whenever he dropped something on his toe. And Derek would have ignored it before that fucking fairy had cursed him. But now things had changed. For the first time in his life, Derek was forced to watch out for his own safety. Not that he had been careless before, but he hadn’t prioritised his well-being.

One of the perks of being a werewolf was, after all, the fast healing process. Now, every bump into furniture, every scratch from a kitchen knife needed to be treated.

It was exhausting.

Derek made a mental note to pay closer attention to Stiles whenever he got hurt. Actually, it freaked him out a little. How Stiles shrugged off breaking his arm that one time and even refused to take pain medication. And it wasn’t that Derek couldn’t take the pain, just- did it have to take so long for it to heal?

To him, humans had always been fragile but after experiencing first-hand how breakable the human body was, he re-evaluated everything that had happened to Stiles, Lydia and Allison in the years since he’d known them.

A horrific thought occurred to him then. He vividly remembered smashing Stiles’ head against his steering wheel and there had also been an instant or two when he had barked at the human to not make such a fuss about being injured when Stiles had almost been bleeding out. Even the incident with the pixies not too long ago suddenly shone in new light.

Derek cursed heartedly, earning not only one but two raised eyebrows from both Stiles and Isaac, who were sprawled out on the couch and – in Stiles’ case – halfway on the floor.

“You alright there, S-“ Stiles shut his mouth instantly, but Derek had heard the beginning of the nickname. A pang shot through him at the word, a painful reminder of what he wasn’t anymore.

“Derek-“ And he couldn’t take it, the pity and the looks on their faces. So, he turned on his heel and ran. Not literally. It was more like stalking towards his bedroom, but still. Unfortunately, as he was well aware, Stiles was never one to leave anything alone. The knock came faster than anticipated.

“Derek- I’m really sorry. It’s- it’s a habit, you know? I didn’t do it deliberately…” he trailed off, scratching his ear. Just no. He hadn’t meant for Stiles to feel guilty.

“I know that. I’m not mad at you…” He closed his arms around the Spark, relaxing when he felt Stiles’ heart beat steadily against Derek’s chest.

“Then why did you run up here?” He sounded small. Derek could have hit himself. He hadn’t meant to upset Stiles and it should have been obvious that his reaction would.

“You can say it, you know? I just don’t want to always feel like cripple. Like there’s something wrong with me!” Where did that come from? He wasn’t exactly sure why he had said that but now that it was out there, he felt better. After all, he realised, he had been sitting on that for quite a while.

Stiles was quiet. That was not a good sign. Derek immediately back-pedalled. Or tried to. Because the minute he opened his mouth, Stiles’ lips pressed against his. Completely overwhelmed, he barely kissed back.

That was until Stiles bit his lower lip.

He snapped. Quite literally. His hands grabbed for every part of Stiles he could get, lifting his shirt and biting along his neck. Even without the wolf close under the surface, his instincts were still the same.

_Mark. Bite. Claim._

“Sourwolf.” Stiles whispered against his hair and it sent shivers down his spine. Fuck, that was hot. He vaguely wondered when the insult had become something that turned him on but he suspected it correlated more with the situation – it being Stiles in his arms and moaning – than with the actual word. But hey, not like he gave a damn why it was hot anyway, the only thing that mattered was that it made his blood boil in all the right ways.

“As much as I’m on board with this, maybe we should slow down?” Stiles said, sounding pleasantly breathless. Derek growled, something that sounded so much like his wolf it scared him a bit, but let go of the man in his arms.

“Didn’t think that would escalate so much…” Stiles admitted sheepishly, his cheeks a delicious red.

“If you two could escalate elsewhere I’d really appreciate it!” Isaac yelled from downstairs, obviously having been an unwilling spectator of their make-out session.

“Sorry, kid!” Stiles yelled back, looking not the least bit apologetic.

“Fuck you!” Derek rolled his eyes. Those two, seriously.

“So- crisis averted?” Huh. Yeah, now that he thought about it, Derek was indeed calmer than he had been when storming up here, the reason for the freak-out almost forgotten. Who would have thought that kissing had such an influence on him?

When they returned to the couch Isaac flung a pillow at Stiles’ head that hit him full force.

“What was that for?” Stiles sputtered around a mouthful of feathers.

“Seriously? You guys are like my parents! I don’t need to hear that shit!” Isaac did a full-body shiver at the mental image. It looked adorable. And like Derek would need to pay for life-long therapy.

“Sorry.” Derek huffed. Hey, he had said it. Nobody could accuse him of being impolite.

“Ha. At least one of you has some manners!” Isaac threw his hands in the air in a dramatic gesture that he undoubtedly had adopted from Stiles and scowled in a way that was so much Derek that the Alpha was sure he was actually their biological child.

 

* * *

 

 

This was getting ridiculous, Stiles thought one evening while he was knee-deep in books and pages with three laptops opened and beeping angrily at him whenever a new message popped up on screen in some forum or other.

So far, only one of his online-friends had encountered something similar to the situation happening in Beacon Hills. Alex, a druid from Ireland of all places, had not too long ago stumbled upon a creature whose description bore some resemblance to the one Stiles had it out for. It felt like the silver lining, since all of Stiles’ research had been for naught. There was nothing in either Bestiary– he had gotten his hands on a second one from a French hunter family in the last year that had proven to be quite helpful– and the internet didn’t offer an explanation either.

So, when Alex told him about a witch in his local coven going crazy because she couldn’t access her powers anymore, an entire chandelier lit up in Stiles’ head. He distinctly remembered reading about a creature that had the power to mess with the mind of their victim, specifically in correlation with other supernatural beings. With clammy fingers, cheeks heating up in excitement, he grabbed the Bestiary from where it had slithered under his bed.

And there– on page 394– there it was. A Far Darrig, of Irish origin and a known prankster.

The sigh of relief that escaped him had Alex chuckle on the other line.

“I guess you found what you were looking for then?” Stiles murmured a quick _yes_ and a goodbye before hanging up.

His eyes roamed along the pages.

 

**_Far Darrig:_ ** _(the red man) a gruesome, practical joker who likes to scare the living hell out of its prey._ _He dresses in red from his hat to his tail-trailing cape to the woolen stockings which cling to his calves. This is the reason he is called the Far Darrig or red man._ _He is known not only for his color (sometimes he travels invisibly) but for his delight in mischief and mockery. He can be a gruesome practical joker. He manipulates his voice, emitting sounds like the thudding waves on the rocks or the cooing of pigeons. His favorite is the dull, hollow laugh of a dead man; which he makes sound as if it's coming from the grave. He has also been known to give evil dreams._ _Mortal terror amuses the Far Darrig._

 

That couldn’t be it. There had to be more. Stiles frantically skimmed over the pages again and again but there was nothing else on there. No information on how to kill it, if it even could be killed.

_Shit, how do you kill a spirit?_

_Can you even kill a spirit?_

The ringing of his phone ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Lydia?”

“You need to come over, Scott’s going crazy.” Well, that was not something Stiles ever thought he would hear.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

As it turned out, Scott was not literally going crazy. He was, however, curled up in a ball and shivering. Stiles approached like he would a wounded deer.

“Hey Scotty…” He kept his voice chipper, his steps slow. Scott didn’t look up, only clutched the pillow in his hands tighter against his chest.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong, buddy?” He sat down beside the Scott-ball, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It just feels wrong- cold…” The shiver that went through him was almost violent.

“What feels wrong?”

“Being cut off- I don’t-“ he breathed in shakily “I don’t know why the others don’t feel it but…”

“But you do.” Stiles finished for him.

“Yeah.” He had never seen his best friend look that lost. Not even when he had first turned. There had been anger but not this level of hopelessness.

“Have you talked to Derek about it?” A headshake confirmed what Stiles had thought.

“You think you should?”

“No.” God, did they all have to be so stubborn?

“Why not?”

“He has his own problems. I don’t- I can deal with this.”

“Yeah, you can obviously deal with this.” The look on Scott’s face when he emerged from the pillows to scowl at Stiles said it all. Stiles backed away.

“’t okay if I talk to him, buddy?” A reluctant nod.

 _Good_.

They were making progress.

Stiles closed the door softly behind him.

“Derek?” No answer.

“Derek, you in there?” Stiles took the growl for an invitation it obviously wasn’t and entered.

“Listen up, Big Guy. Your Beta is going crazy and you need to crawl out of you cave and comfort him.”

“Not a cave.” Great. Another wolf buried underneath pillows. What even was Stiles’ life?

“A den, whatever.” Stiles dismissed.

“Come on!” Stiles pulled at the mountain of pillows covering the Alpha. And was met with resistance.

“Derek!”

“NO! I don’t want to!” The pile of blankets shook its head– or at least Stiles thought it was the head. It was hard to tell. And incredibly adorable.

“Derek, stop being a child and come out of there!” Something happened then that Stiles knew Derek had felt too. His head peaked out from the bedding and there was a look in his eyes Stiles couldn’t decipher.

“What?”

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“The Alpha ring– you just used it. On me. And it worked.” Apparently, that it worked on him puzzled Derek more than Stiles being able to use it.

“What did I use– Derek, you’re not making sense!”

“The Alpha-voice. You just used it.” _Huh._ That was new.

“But I’m not an Alpha.” Suddenly, Derek blushed bright red.

“Derek, what is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” God, he was an even worse liar than Stiles himself.

“Tell me!” He hadn’t meant to do it. He really hadn’t. But Derek put a hand over his stomach as if feeling a pull and launched into an explanation he very obviously didn’t want to give.

“It’s an Alpha trait but there are exceptions. Some people can develop it too.”

“Which people? You mean like the spark? You think that’s it?” Derek shook his head, his cheeks flushing even more.

“It’s exclusive to Alphas–“ he took a deep breath, eyes refusing to meet Stiles’ “and an Alpha’s mate.” Stiles’ brain short-circuited.

What?

Alpha’s mate.

Where had he heard that bef-

_Damn it!_

That thing had been right.

“The creature! That’s what it meant! When it told me– when-“

“Yes. It must have sensed our uh connection when I yelled at it to get away from you.”

The impact of the words hit Stiles hard in the core. He liked being with Derek. He loved the way their relationship had progressed. Just- marrying the Alpha this soon was not something he was prepared for. And a mate bond was nothing short of marriage, if not more.

Too soon.

This was just too soon. They hadn’t even said the L-word yet.

“Stiles?” He needed a moment to realise that Derek was talking to him, and– judging by the tone of his voice– had been for quite some time already.

“So… what you mean to say is that I am your mate… Did I get that right?” Derek kept looking at him and he wasn’t sure if the reaction was a good one or not.

“A-are you- is that something you’d- you’d want?” And wasn’t that the one-million-dollar question?

“Apparently that doesn’t matter. Because I wasn’t asked if I wanted that, was I?” He couldn’t help the snapping tone. And he almost felt guilty for being so harsh. Almost.

“Just- it’s obviously not news to you- it wasn’t news to you when that thing told you, so why didn’t you tell me that this could happen?” To Stiles, being withheld information was the crux of the issue.

“It was too soon. Usually, that connection just slowly progresses. My wolf chose you when we got together but it didn’t affect you so I didn’t want to pressure you. I just- I didn’t think you’d want- I thought if I told you, maybe you wouldn’t want…” He didn’t finish the sentence- not that it was necessary. Stiles knew what the problem was. Derek had thought that if he told Stiles there was the possibility of him becoming an Alpha mate, he wouldn’t want to attempt a relationship.

“Derek-“ He stepped closer, one finger under Derek’s chin to lift it up until their eyes met. “Look at me, Sourwolf. I- yes I would have preferred to have time to think about it but in the end, we both know that I still would have said yes. I’ll always say yes when it’s you.”

The tentative smile on Derek’s face made Stiles’ skin tingle pleasantly.

To lift the severity of the moment, he said: “Now get your ass out of this bed and talk to your traumatised Beta before I drag you out myself!” Derek chuckled while trying to untangle the mess of blankets around his legs, nearly flopping down on the bed when he couldn’t find his balance.

 

* * *

 

 

After the emotional bomb that was a sad Scott was defused, Stiles asked Derek if he knew why it had hit Scott the hardest. While the Alpha didn’t have any definite knowledge, he certainly had a theory.

“Maybe because he was my first official Beta, even with Peter on the loose, so cutting off the bond hits him stronger.”

“But shouldn’t it affect me most? Since I’m your second.” Stiles asked, knowing full well that, even if chronologically Scott had been the first Beta, Stiles was Derek’s second.  

“You’re not a wolf though. There isn’t the same kind of bond between us. The mate-bond is something different and even though you are my second, it’s just- you’re not a wolf- it’s not the same…”

“Still… strange.”

“You have any idea what the thing is yet?” Derek asked. And Stiles was eternally grateful Derek couldn’t tell he was lying anymore. So, he told him no, that he didn’t have any clue whatsoever. If Derek knew he was lying, he didn’t call him on it.

 

* * *

 

 

That was how Stiles found himself in an empty compound, face to face with the Far Darrig. He had traced the magic all through town until it had brought him here. The Darrig looked at him with a mixture between impressed and annoyed.

“Young Spark, what a pleasure.” God, he hated that Irish bastard.

“Lift it! Whatever spell or curse you put on him, lift it!” The Darrig stood there, looking even more impressed.

“Congratulations, young Spark. You managed to find me. That is no easy feat.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

Always with the villains that thought themselves to be untouchable.

Really, this was getting ridiculous. If he got a dollar each time someone was surprised he had figured it out, he would have given Derek a run for his money quite literally. Unfortunately, no one deemed it important to pay him for his efforts.

A pity, really.

As it was, his patience was wearing dangerously thin the longer the Darrig just stood there and kept talking.

“Lift it!” He pointed the gun at its head, watching the surprise fade into something more to annoyance. Great. At least he had its attention.

“Now why would I do that? It seems to me he has not learned his lesson yet.” That ugly smirk was back and Stiles finger itched on the trigger to wipe it off its face.

“I don’t give a fuck! Lift it from him or I’ll blow your head off!” The laugh that erupted from its chest made the hairs on Stiles’ arm rise. He suddenly wished he had brought back up.

“That will get you nowhere.” Yeah, that much had been clear from the moment he had realised what the creature was he was hunting.

“Just lift it! What’s it to you?”

“Ah- but I’m afraid I cannot.” The Darrig said, inspecting its nails as if it was bored.

“Why?”

“Because once cast, there is no way to undo it.” It hesitated, then looked Stiles up and down. “And killing me will not break the spell either.” Stiles wanted to stomp his feet. That had been his one straw of hope. Kill the castor- break the spell.

Seemed like today wasn’t his day.

“You know, I have become quite fond of our little talks, so I will graciously offer you a hint.”

That made Stiles pause. Why would it give him a hint?

“That is, if you promise to let me walk free.” He snorted.

“Yeah no, thanks!” Stiles was already on his way back to the Jeep when the Darrig called him back.

“I will leave town.”

“Why? We’ve been trying to get you to leave for weeks and you wouldn’t budge. Why now?”

“I become bored quite easily.” It offered with a shrug. Stiles didn’t buy it for a second. But what choice did he have?

“Right. I promise not to hunt you down. There. Satisfied?” God, this was seriously pissing him off.

“Very.” Stiles rolled his eyes at the sarcastic answer.

“Now tell me. What is the hint?” He tried sounding blasé about it, but he figured it was quite obvious that he was dying to know.

“Since you have asked so nicely…” It glanced at the gun in Stiles’ hand then back at Stiles.

“Only he can lift it.”

“Only who?” He hated playing the pronoun game.

“Your Alpha of course. Silly boy.” And he hated being called silly even more.

“How?”

“I’ll leave that up to you. Only know that he will have to do it himself. If he is not ready, it will not work.” With that, it disappeared, leaving Stiles almost more confused than he had been before. Somehow, that encounter hadn’t been as satisfying as he hoped it would be.

And how he was supposed to tell the pack that he had gone in alone, had managed to get a hold of it and then let it run away was beyond him.

Jackson especially wouldn't be happy about that.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles huffed in exasperation. He hadn’t signed up for this. Really. If somebody had told him helping Scott on his way to becoming a decent werewolf would include a bunch of over-eager puppies, a moody Alpha currently human and pouting and playing Pack mom as an Alpha mate, he would have run for the hills. While screaming. Probably.

Since he hadn’t done that when there still had been time to, he was now forced to explain in excruciating detail the why and how and God knows what of his encounter with the Far Darrig. And while trying to do so, he couldn’t help but ask himself: what even was his life?

“It had information about Derek, okay? If I had killed it, it wouldn’t have told me.” That it had left voluntarily, almost as if it couldn’t wait to skip town, he conveniently failed to mention. Even though, he had certainly not forgotten it.

“So, it did tell you, right? How to get Derek’s wolf back?” Isaac sounded so eager it broke Stiles’ heart to answer the way he knew he had to.

“Kinda-“

Jackson growled. Seriously. They behaved like they were raised by wolv- oh, well. 

“Just- hear me out. It gave me a hint- sort of.” Derek motioned for him to continue.

“It’s you.” Stiles blurted out. The hurt look on Derek’s face made him want to slap himself. That hadn’t been the way to tell him.

“I mean- okay, listen…” he took a deep breath “It said that it has to do with something in you. Like there is some kind of blockade inside you that is keeping the wolf out. I think that the wolf is locked away in your head but not gone- you just can’t access him. So, we need you to unlock him yourself. I’m not sure if anyone else can do it for you- I mean, there are some spells I looked at but they’re not that safe and I don’t think anyone has ever tried them. So, maybe we should keep that as a– I don’t know?– last option, or like a Plan B?”

The pack was staring at him. And not necessarily in a good way.

“What?”

“There are spells to- to go into his head?” Scott sounded scared. Stiles shared the sentiment. He had done a double-take too when he had discovered there were ways to enter someone else’s unconscious.

“It’s an option. But I’d rather not-“

“You are not going into my head!” Derek barked out. His shoulders were tenser than Stiles had seen them in a long time. His heart sunk. He had known that Derek wouldn’t like that option but if all else failed, they had to do it this way. Even though, it was a violation Derek didn’t deserve.

“Derek-“

“No!”

With that, he nearly ran up the stairs. Stiles sighed, unsure if following him was the right move. In the end, it turned out he needn’t decide since he was unceremoniously pushed up the stairs by Lydia and Erica simultaneously.

“Hey Big Guy…” Stiles said upon entering.

“Go away!” That was a petulant answer if Stiles ever heard one.

“Yeah, no can do.” He sat down on the bed were Derek was burying his face in a pillow.

“What do you think I’ll see if I have to go in there?”

When no answer came, Stiles asked “What are you so afraid of?” Derek stiffened, letting Stiles know he had hit the nail on the head.

Suddenly, Derek was up and yelling: “That you’ll see! Don’t you get that?!?”

“That I’ll see what?”

“Me! What I did-“ Dread filled his stomach when the meaning of the words sunk in.

“What you did with her…” Derek’s eyes were wide and nearly overflowing with emotions.

“Derek- it wasn’t your fault.” The Alpha abruptly turned away, but Stiles wouldn’t have it.

“No- look at me. None of this was your fault. It would have happened either way. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it.” And there wasn’t. Kate was a hunter, she would have burned them regardless.

“You don’t know that…”

“I do. I do- Derek, she’s a bitch and she wanted you to believe her, to love her. She would have found another way. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But-“

“No. Listen to me. The Nogitsune, me killing all those people, what did you say to me? When I woke myself up screaming? What did you always say to me?” He suppressed a shiver at the memories that suddenly threatened to suffocate him.

“That wasn’t your fault. Stiles, it’s different…”

“How? How was this any different? You didn’t light the match on your family, Derek. She did. But I- I killed them with my own hands…” Derek’s arms were around him in an instant. Stiles breathed in deeply, finding comfort in the way Derek smelled of rain and wood.

“You aren’t any guiltier than me…” Derek’s embrace tightened.

“It’s- sometimes I just get in my head- you know? And she’s there. She’ always there. And I don’t want- I don’t want you to see me at my worst…” It was whispered quietly against Stiles’ neck, not more than a breath.

“I’ve seen you at your worst already. Possessed, bloody, beaten. Derek there is nothing in there that will make me love you any less…” Only when Derek’s lips crushed his did he realise what he had just admitted to. Fuck. He hadn’t wanted to- this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Shit.

But Derek simply kissed him, so softly, so tenderly Stiles almost didn’t feel the press of his lips. The upcoming panic subsided as quickly as it had come. Derek cradled Stiles in his arms, like something precious, holding him as if afraid he’d disappeared if he let go. And for just one moment, Stiles felt like it was okay. That it would all be okay.

He really should have known better than to be this optimistic.

 

* * *

 

 

When Chris Argent called Stiles on a sunny Thursday afternoon, he knew they were in big trouble. He hated to be right in these instances. As it turned out, Chris had caught wind of a group of hunters passing the border on the nearby territory. Stiles didn’t for a minute think there was any other reason than wanting to get to Beacon Hills to go after their pack.

A small part of him feared the worst: that they knew about Derek’s indisposed state and wanted to take advantage of that. It dawned on him then that the Far Darrig must have known they were coming already. A prankster harming humans wouldn’t have an easy time with hunters, no matter how well he covered his tracks.

If Stiles could trace it, so could they.

 

* * *

 

The ambush came quickly. Stiles had been on high alert the entire day. The Sheriff had been patrolling the streets, Parrish had been on desk-duty but had kept an ear out for any trouble related to the supernatural.

The pack were all assembled in the loft, some sitting on the couch and trying to relax while others– like Allison– were walking up and down.

After watching the Alpha pace around for the tenth time, Stiles snapped.

“Derek, sit down!” The silence that followed was deafening. Undoubtedly, the whole pack had felt the force of the Alpha command rumble through them.

He mumbled a quick “sorry” but kept scowling. He hated waiting for an attack. It made him feel like a sitting duck. The phone on the kitchen table rang loudly in the silence of the room. Stiles knew everyone’s eyes were on him when he picked up.

“Edge of the preserve. They are waiting. Try not to kill them. I don’t know what they want yet.” Chris’ gruff voice sounded more strained than usual.

That didn’t bode well.

Not at all.

The anxiety level of the whole pack stepped up a notch while they were driving to the spot Chris told them to come to. They had discussed tactics but the reality of Derek not being a wolf anymore scared Stiles shitless.

Not that Derek wasn’t a decent fighter– powers or not– but he had seen Derek unable to open a jar one day because he still didn’t know how to use his strength appropriately. So, either he would hit too hard, or not hard enough and both options were anything but ideal. Derek was on edge beside him when Stiles kept pestering about taking it easy, staying in the back.

“I can still fight.” Derek huffed.

“Not as well as you’re used to. I’m just worried, okay?” Isaac made an affirmative noise on the backseat.

“I can take care of myself during a fight. Wolf or not.” Stiles didn’t need enhanced hearing to know that wasn’t the truth. But he didn’t press. It was Derek’s way of reassuring himself, not an attempt to brush Stiles off and everyone in the Jeep knew it.

They reached the spot– a clearing of all places– five minutes later. The hunters were already assembled, looking like the smug assholes they were.

Chris wasn’t anywhere in sight but Stiles hadn’t anticipated him to be. Wouldn’t do him any good if the hunters found out how close he was to the local pack of abominations.

The second the pack stepped out of their cars, the hunters closed their ranks. If it weren’t such a serious situation, Stiles would have been tempted to make a joke. As it was, he barely kept his mouth shut. He tuned back into the conversation Scott had apparently started.

“We are not harming anyone. We are not breaking any laws.”

“Of course you’re not, Sweety.” A huntress on the far left said, her voice honey as sugar and just as sticky. Her stance betrayed her tone, arms crossed, eyes never leaving the pack.

“Then why are you here?” Derek spoke up, his voice firm, his face unreadable. Stiles felt the authority ooze off of him. Alpha indeed.

“Just to look around, maybe make a home here. What with such a variety of wildlife.” The man in the front said through clenched teeth. Stiles snorted.

“Wild life? What show have you been watching?” Maybe that comment hadn’t been the best idea, but he hated having the pack talked about in such a way. Even, or maybe especially, by hunters.

“Ah, the Spark. I have heard about you. About the boy who runs with the wolves.” Stiles didn’t like the implication. If someone had told them about Stiles’ power, they were pretty well informed already.

“Yeah? Then you’ve also heard that I hate people who just want to hear themselves talk.” He just couldn’t help it. Not with the way that idiot was behaving. Jackson growled lowly behind him, a clear warning. To whom, Stiles wasn’t sure. The hunter smiled at him. It was the only indication Stiles had before a shot was fired. It hit Boyd in the arm but didn’t deter the wolf from jumping into action.

Chaos erupted.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Stiles saw Erica and Boyd surround a duo of hunters, circling them and drawing in closer.

Jackson seemed to shield Lydia who screamed her head off, making everyone’s ears ring. But, contrary to the hunters, the pack was used to it and therefore, could use the minor disorientation of the hunters to their advantage.

Scott and Isaac were backed up by Allison who was shooting expertly at everything that came too close for comfort to the trio. Scott’s howl made Stiles fall into motion beside Derek. The Alpha didn’t even look at him as if he knew Stiles would be there.

A slashing sound made Stiles whip around to see Isaac fall to his knees, clutching at his chest. His shirt was hanging off him in shreds, angry red marks were covering his entire upper body. Stiles turned to see which weapon had caused such damage but was distracted when he realised that Derek wasn’t by his side anymore.

The next minutes felt like slow-motion to Stiles.

He saw Derek lunge at the hunter closest to him and watched in stunned fascination when Derek punched him so hard in the face he knocked him straight out. One could easily be inclined to believe Derek had forgotten he wasn’t a wolf anymore.

For a minute, it looked as if Derek was faring quite well, still on his feet and throwing fists but that didn’t last all too long. Stiles felt bad at concentrating on the Alpha while the rest of his pack was under attack, but he couldn’t help it. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest with every advance on Derek.

He kept waiting for that moment, when Derek would rely on something that wasn’t there.

And then, the moment came.

A hunter snuck up on the Alpha, Derek didn’t hear him coming like he usually would, Stiles yelled at him to turn around. Everything happened fast. Derek managed to turn just in time for the hunter to plunge a knife deep into his side.

The Alpha fell to his knees, clutching at the wound where blood was quickly pouring out. Derek looked at him, tears in his eyes and opened his mouth in a silent scream. Stiles didn’t realise he was running until he was face to face with the hunter. He drew back and smashed his fist with all his strength and magic behind it into the hunter’s throat. The hunter stumbled, fell but Stiles had already gripped his gun tightly, aiming.

One shot, precisely into his rib cage and the hunter stopped breathing. Stiles fell to his knees beside Derek, trying to stop the blood flow and soothe Derek simultaneously. Neither of them payed any attention to the fighting anymore.

Stiles put his trust into his pack like he never had before. And he wasn’t disappointed. In the span of ten minutes, the hunters were running for their van and hitting the gas as if hell was on their heels.

The way from the preserve to the loft was straining to say the least. Stiles concentrated all his magic on the wound in Derek’s chest, not even stopping to scold Jackson for driving the Jeep like he was in his Porsche and not worried about insurance. Derek kept staring at Stiles with something that scared the living hell out of the Spark and irritated Lydia to no ends. She was nursing a slash in her arm and switching the blood-soaked cotton pads Stiles was handing her with clean ones.

The silence had all of them on edge but neither did anything to break it. When the car reached the parking lot in front of Derek’s building, Stiles had a hard time helping the wolf stand on wobbly knees. The look on Derek’s face was closed off but his eyes were haunted like Stiles had only seen them twice before.

“We’ll wait for the others and then come up.” Lydia said, gesticulating to the empty lot. Stiles nodded and mumbled a “thanks”, clapping Jackson on the back on the way to the entrance door.

“Stiles? Just- one thing before you go up there…” Lydia called from the Jeep before they could go in.

“They knew- about Derek.” It sounded as if she was deep in thoughts, yet absolutely sure of her words. Stiles didn’t doubt her. The thought had occurred to him somewhere on the way too.

“They knew…” Her voice carried like the Banshee power suddenly enhanced her voice range. They heard her all the way to the elevator like a constant reminder.

Stiles was relieved once Derek sunk down on the couch, lifting his shirt over his head with a grunt.

“I’ll go get the kit.” Stiles said, much more clipped off than he intended it to sound like. When he returned, Derek still wasn’t talking. It scared him. He hated silence.

“You want me to do it?” A nod.

“Try to lean back a bit- not that far- sorry” Stiles rambled while trying to stitch the skin together. His fingers trembled around the needle and he had to take a second to calm himself down. It didn’t take long- the wound wasn’t as severe as Stiles had thought it to be. He couldn’t thank all the Gods and whoever else was out there enough for the small miracle.

Still, Derek wasn’t talking.

“All done, good as new…” He set down the sowing-kit, having disinfected the needle and rolled up the yarn.

Derek suddenly spoke up. “Stiles…” Something was wrong. Stiles felt it in his bones. Something was definitely wrong. Derek sounded on the verge of tears. Stiles sank back down on the couch, almost not daring to look at Derek for the fear of seeing something there that would break his heart.

“Does it always feel like this for you?” Stiles’ head shot up, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What?”

“When you get hurt- does it always feel like this?” He still couldn’t follow.

“Does it feel like what?”

“Like being ripped apart. Like everything is on fire and you can’t put it out.” Derek sounded scared. And Stiles didn’t understand why.

“Depends, I guess. Sometimes, yeah it hurts pretty bad like that time when Gerard beat me up but that’s not every time. The Pixies were annoying but nothing I couldn’t handle. It varies, you know…” He didn’t have a clue what was going on. Derek– or anyone of the pack really– had never been interested in knowing how much something hurt to him. Pain levels differed among persons.

There was no universal scale from one to ten.

“I’m sorry.” What? Why was Derek apologising?

“I never- when you get hurt, I just brush it off. I never thought you’d feel like this…”

“It’s not always-“

“No- you don’t get it. Stiles, I- I didn’t realise you ever felt like that. When I get hurt, it heals. Maybe not immediately, but so much faster. If it had been a month ago, that stab wound wouldn’t even have made me fall over.” Stiles didn’t interrupt, too eager to hear where Derek’s train of thought was going.

“But you- you don’t have that. You have to rely on doctors and medication to heal something like that and it takes weeks, sometimes more.” Stiles had no idea where this was coming from, why Derek was suddenly so aggregated.

“I just-“ Derek huffed, almost as if annoyed by himself.

“I never asked how you were, if you were okay beyond life or death. When you took that bullet to the chest I had you on a patrol a week after-“

“I was fine-“

“No- no you weren’t. Want to know how I know that? Because you told me. That was the one time you explicitly told me you were hurt and I brushed you off, told you to stop complaining and do your job.” Yeah, he remembered that night well. Derek had been kind of an asshole. But hey, Stiles had been one too on more than one occasion so why get hung up on that now?

“I am so sorry, Stiles, I promise-“

Aaaaand that was it. If Stiles hated one thing, it was Derek pleading. In a non-sexy way. Not that he had heard him plead in a sexy way, but he could imagine it sounded hot. He had trouble concentrating back on Derek. Damn those abs. That weren’t covered by a shirt. For the first time this evening, Stiles noticed Derek’s shirtlessness for anything other than the fact that he was slightly turned on. Despite the stitches.

“Stiles?”

“Sorry, distracted…”

“By what?” Derek looked genuinely confused, his eyebrows drawing together and his bunny teeth showing. Adorable, Stiles’ brain unhelpfully provided. He really needed to stop this nonsense. They had serious things to discuss. This was not the time to drool.

_Keep it together, Stilinski!_

Stiles swished his arms, indicating – hopefully– that the reason for his distraction were not to be discussed.

“Let me get this straight. You have no supernatural healing power and now that you got hurt, it suddenly affected the way you view pain?” Because that had been the message, right? What Derek had wanted to say?

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.” The words were out of his mouth before he could reign them in.

“Sorry. It’s just- Derek I can take care of myself. I can deal with a bit of pain here and there.”

“But I had no idea it felt like this. Don’t you get that? If I had known how this felt, I wouldn’t ever have pushed your face into that steering wheel.” Ah, the crux of the issue. Derek’s eternal guilt trip.

“Derek. I know why you did that and while, yeah, it wasn’t all too pleasant and I would appreciate you not doing that again, I didn’t die, I didn’t even need a trip to the ER and you didn’t do it to hurt me. So, get over it. Okay?” Derek didn’t look like he was okay. Great.

“Dude- I’m fine. I’m used to hurting myself on the daily. And it hasn’t been that bad for a long time. So, relax.”

“I’ll try to be better.” Derek whispered, sounding broken in ways Stiles didn’t know how to fix.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You have enough on your radar already…” And he meant it. Stiles knew how to deal with this the way every human – or spark– could. Pain meds were a blessing after all.

“I’m still sorry…”

“I know. And I appreciate it, okay? But this has to stop. You can’t sit around and overthink everything you’ve done your whole life. Especially not this. I’m fine, Derek. I am completely fine.” Derek’s facial expression didn’t change but his body language did. It was almost nothing but Stiles saw the way his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

It was a give.

Ever so small.

But it was there.

And to him, it counted.

 

* * *

 

Once he had time to think Stiles decided that the hunters had left much too easily for his comfort. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad they were gone but hunters usually weren’t deterred so quickly.

However, apparently there were more pressing matters than that, seeing as Isaac kept pulling on the sleeve of Stiles’ shirt like a toddler wanting attention.

“But Stiles- you don’t understand- it’s my favourite!” Isaac whined- yes, whined! And Stiles nearly lost it. God, that kid did not only have the damn puppy eyes but a trembling lip and an overall look like a freaking angel. And now he was almost bawling about a shirt Stiles had absolutely no idea how to fix.

“Give it to me.” Derek said from behind Stiles, holding out his hand for the shirt. Isaac and Stiles- and presumably the whole pack collectively- stared at Derek as if he had grown a second head. When nobody said anything, Derek simply grabbed the shirt from Isaac’s lax hand and put it in his trunk.

The air was laced in tense silence until Stiles broke it with the question Derek had known was coming.

“What was that?” It didn’t sound accusing, merely curious.

“I can fix it.” Apparently, that wasn’t what Stiles wanted to hear because he flicked Derek’s ear.

“I can fix the shirt.” he elaborated, casting Stiles a glance that he hoped conveyed his annoyance about being flicked on the ear. Stiles didn’t look convinced.

“You can fix the shirt? Who are you- Georgio Armani? Are you going to show me how to cross-stitch next?”

“I can sew.” Derek hated how defensive he sounded, especially because there was no reason for it. Stiles was not laughing at him, he just wanted to know what was going on.

“Really?” Derek braced himself against better knowledge for an insult that didn’t come.

Instead, Stiles said “Dude, why didn’t you tell me? That’s awesome! You have no idea how many shirts I’ve had to sewback together after running into whatever asshole was on a murder-spree that night.”

Derek nearly had a heart attack the enthusiasm. It was a close call. Stiles looked excited and it did things to Derek that he didn’t want to feel. He would have loved to smell him right now, have that sweet scent in his nose that he had been addicted to since that first kiss in his bathroom.

“Can you have a look at my hoodie?” Derek nodded a yes and then tried to remember which hoodie of Stiles had gotten ruined without realising that he knew Stiles’ wardrobe so well that he could, in fact, narrow it down to three.

“Which one?” he asked.

“The red one. You know when those freaking Pixies slashed it…” Derek’s brain went offline for a hot second. When it was back on, he contemplated refusing to stitch it back together. He had hoped that it had been ruined beyond possibility of fixing but apparently, he had been wrong.

“Everything alright?” Stiles sounded concerned and it would have made Derek happy if his mind wasn’t producing images of Stiles in that hoodie, in nothing but that damned red hoodie. His head was not showing him Red Riding Hood images.

It was not.

But _God_ , did he look good wearing that thing.

“Can you stop that? Seriously, there are people in the room who would prefer not to smell your hard-on for him!” Erica shouted from the living room. The growl that emerged from Derek’s chest sounded so much like his wolf, it startled even Derek himself.

But then his eyes caught Stiles’ eyebrow. It was raised in obvious amusement.

“You like my red hoodie, Der?” His mouth quirked in a suggestive smirk, his tone taking on a sultry note that made Derek’s mouth water. He wasn’t ready to tell Stiles how much he had prayed for that bane of his existence to be destroyed. Seeing Stiles wearing that was more than just torture.

It was hell. Especially considering that they still hadn’t have sex yet. Which was more Derek’s choice than it was Stiles’ but still.

“It looks good on you.” Derek offered as way of an explanation he knew Stiles didn't buy. 

“So, is that a yes to fixing it up nice and tight for me?” Was it suddenly hot in the kitchen? Derek didn’t know.

And before he could even contemplate the consequences of his answer, he heard his own voice say: “Yes.”

Well, as it turned out, Derek would single-handedly conjure his own hell, by sowing that damn thing, just so that Stiles would be happy.

And because he looked really good in that thing.

Really, _really_ good.

 

* * *

 

Two days after the incident with the obnoxious assholes– how Stiles liked to call it– Deaton had invited them to the clinic. And by invited, he meant strongly encouraged to come. Stiles bit his nails, a habit he had picked up again after Boyd had taken a wolfsbane bullet to the chest the one time and they had to wait for him to wake up for almost three hours.

His nails had barely recovered since then.

“Derek- it is nice to see you again,” the vet greeted the alpha. That he only nodded to Stiles was hopefully due to their spending once a week together to explore Stiles’ Spark. And that sounded way dirtier than Stiles felt comfortable with. He quickly directed his attention elsewhere while suppressing a shudder.

“As Stiles may have told you there is a way for us to coax your wolf back into your conscious.” Derek flinched at the words and nearly backed into a table with the force of it. He was obviously still as uncomfortable as he had been with the idea when it had been first presented to him.

“Unless you have found a way to release it yourself?” The question was laced with doubt. Stiles wanted to defend Derek, to tell Deaton it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t do it himself but he remained silent. Something in the doctor’s tone made him think it hadn’t been meant as judgmental as it had sounded.

Derek shook his head, seemingly confirming Deaton’s thought process.

“Would you be willing to let Stiles into your head?” It was a rather blunt approach, something Stiles wasn’t all too used to when talking to the doctor. More often than not had he found himself confronted with vague half-answers. The change was refreshing.

“Yes,” the way Derek clenched his teeth must have been unhealthy.

“Very well then.” Deaton opened the book on the table and explained in detail how Stiles would be able to navigate inside Derek’s head to break the barrier containing Derek’s wolf.

“You have to think of it as a mental prison. The Far Darrig locked away your wolf but not physically. The barrier is in your head, not your body.”

“But how can Stiles break a barrier that is inside my head?” Stiles had been wondering about that part for quite some time too.

“He will know once he sees what it is upheld by.”

“Upheld?”

“What your mind did to lock the wolf away.” Deaton specified. Realisation dawned on Derek’s face that looked an awful lot like he knew what Stiles would find.

“Can we have a minute?” Stiles asked, eyes pleading. Thankfully, the vet understood and excused himself.

“Derek- we’ve been over this. It won’t change a thing. Whatever I find in there. Whatever you used to build that wall. I don’t care.” Derek remained frozen where he stood.

“Let me try. Let me help…” Stiles approached slowly, unsure if physical contact was something Derek would want right now.

“Promise me,” Derek pressed out. “Promise me, Stiles.”

“I promise. Derek, I will still feel the same about you. Just the same. Nothing will change.” Derek took a deep breath, nodded once. Once Deaton re-entered the room, Derek’s shoulders stiffened again.

The vet talked Stiles through the spell twice, to ensure that Stiles knew exactly what to do and reassure Derek that Stiles indeed knew what to do. It took about an hour but then they were all set. Stiles held tightly onto Derek’s hands to cover up the fact that he was shivering like crazy. Deaton wished him luck, his eyebrow raised in concern that Stiles hoped was unnecessary.

God, he was nervous. Stiles knew that, whatever he would find, it would be far from pleasant.

“Ready?” Stiles asked, his blood rushing in his ears. Derek didn’t look up, didn’t move.

 _“Derek!”_ His head shot up, it was just a second, the mere fraction of a moment but Stiles saw it- saw the doubt, the fear in his eyes.

“Trust me?” He asked, hands shaking where they were sprawled all over Derek’s chest.

“Nothing will change between us, Derek. Just – please– I need you to trust me.” He breathed in, then said it again, almost pleadingly

_“Trust me…”_

It was whispered quietly, only meant for Derek and Derek alone.

And the Alpha heard it, despite being so much more human than he was used to.

And he nodded.

A barely-there motion of his head.

_“Ready...”_

 

 

 


	3. I love you totally...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you for making it to the end. If you have any suggestions, prompts or opinions please let me know in the comments.

 

_"You deserve to be chosen, over and over again. Not merely considered!"_

 

_Fire!  
It smelled like fire. Stiles whipped around trying to locate the flames but didn’t see any. Simply the smell of ashes and something burning itched in his nose. Stiles took a few steps forward, still not seeing anything, then a house came into view. _

_Fire._

_The flames were everywhere, wild and hot. And then he heard it. Screams. Piercing scerams. All-consuming. They came from the basement. Like in a trance Stiles ran over, clawing at the ground window to get it open, to get someone out. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t reach anyone. The window was too high up, the smoke too thick. Desperation was his sole motivator. He was crying, pulling at everything he could reach. The heat was scorching hot on his arms, his nose burned because of the smoke, his lungs wouldn’t expand anymore. But he didn’t care. He had to help them._

_Fuck. He needed help._

_And then it stopped. His brain short circuited._

_No no no no._

_No, please no!_

_The screaming had stopped. It suddenly was dead silent. To Stiles, it was the worst sound in the world. Hearing nothing. Because he knew- he just knew they were dead. This was just a burning house with no one inside that could be saved. The realisation made him scramble away in a need to bring as much distance as he could between him and the ruin. He pressed his hand against his side, out of breath and leaning against a tree._

_A tree?_

_That was strange. And then, it dawned on him. He finally understood._

_This wasn’t real._

_Thank God._

_He was in Derek’s head._

_Shit._

_This was Derek’s memory. Not a real tree. Not a real house either._

_Stiles’ heart broke a little more for Derek. He had lost his mother too but this– this was different. Being so helpless, being unable to save one– even just one– of them. Listening to their screams until there was only deafening silence. Stiles needed a minute to get a grip on himself, too caught up in the pain Derek must have felt, the desperation, the hurt. When he finally could stand upright without wanting to vomit, he looked around again, curious which memory he had stumbled into._

 

* * *

 

 

_The shock kicked in then and Stiles had to hold himself up, using the tree for balance. The scenery changed then. The closer he looked the more trees seemed to appear, overshadowing the path. Sudden darkness descended, leaving him wishing for a flashlight. Just then he heard someone stumble around close to him. He ducked for cover, watching from behind a bush how two dark figures walked by. At least one of them walked._

_The other managed to fall twice while trying to keep up. Something about this felt oddly familiar to Stiles. The two figures turned around then and Stiles nearly had a heart attack._

_It was his own face staring a bit cluelessly to the ground._

_“Scott- you sure you’ve lost it here? Seriously, man this is ridiculous. Couldn’t you have brought at least another flashlight so that - I don’t know- I can see what we’re looking for?” His sixteen-year-old version complained. Stiles had to admit then to himself that the buzzcut hadn’t been that fashionable, at all._

_Scott’s mumbled reply went right over Stiles’ head once he realised another thing: he was in Derek’s body. Adult Derek’s body. And it felt beyond strange. He could sense Derek’s irritation at the presence of two teenagers on “private property”, if Stiles recalled that first encounter correctly._

_Who was he kidding?_

_Of course, he remembered. It was Derek after all. That past-version of Derek itched to punch something, so much anger was bubbling up in him it scared Stiles to a point. He knew how much Derek, even present-Derek, struggled with his anger issues, but feeling it first hand was something different._

_Then Stiles saw himself look up from where he was uselessly kicking leaves to the side with his foot and stared right at Derek. Huh. Something in Derek’s head changed then, his anger simmered down, even if his face didn’t show it. Stiles was hit with a wave of longing from the wolf that had him gasping. He saw himself the way Derek saw him and it made him want to be back in reality and kiss Derek senseless._

_The feeling was clamped down harshly as if Derek had realised what he was doing and that Stiles was a stranger trespassing and that Derek didn’t trust anyone. The anger returned full force, accompanied by determination to threaten that annoying bambi-eyed teenager away._

_Still, Stiles had seen it, had felt the way Derek had stared at him that first night in the woods. Not that there was anything beyond physical attraction, but to him, it meant a lot knowing that Derek was indeed attracted to him. It settled the feeling in his chest that was constantly reminding him about how much out of his league Derek was._

 

* * *

 

 

_Kate._

_All gunpowder violence and sharp tongue. She looked different now, even more dangerous than she had back then. The pain in his side evaporated in the face of the onslaught of memories her appearance triggered. Before he could take a minute to orient himself Stiles was catapulted back in time. A young Derek Hale looked at himself in a mirror, flexing muscles that weren’t as defined or deadly as they were now. But he did look good._

_Even though Stiles liked his version of Derek better, the gruff really did make a difference and he wasn’t about to lust after a teenager. The knock on the door startled Stiles but didn’t so much as surprise Derek. Stiles nearly fell over when he saw who was leaning against the doorframe._

_Kate. A young version with a warm smile on her face that didn’t remotely fit the deadly huntress Stiles knew her to be. It took him a minute to figure out what she was doing here when it dawned on him. Not even watching the house burn had made him want to go back to reality so badly as the situation he was about to witness. He felt a sudden flare of nervousness that he needed a minute to connect to Derek._

_It hurt._

_It hurt really bad knowing what was about to happen. Stiles tried to find comfort in the presumption that Derek likely was about to enjoy it. At least for now. She leaned in to kiss him then, Derek’s heart did a weird flutter and Stiles wanted to vomit. It was odd to say the least, having Derek’s feelings in his head and his own right alongside them. The overwhelming arousal of Derek, the burning need to just close his eyes and look away of Stiles._

_Thankfully- for Stiles- it didn’t last all too long. But having to hear the endearments Kate whispered into Derek’s ears the way the young wolf preened at the compliments, was horrifying. Just when it was about to get too much for Stiles to handle, Derek opened his eyes, back in the body Stiles knew so well and stared at the huntress hovering above him. She grinned, in that evil way of hers that was more teeth than a smile of Derek’s ever could be._

_And she shot._

_Once._

_Twice._

_A third time._

_Stiles howled in pain once the wolfsbane hit. Derek hauled himself out of the window and ran for his life._

 

* * *

 

_Panting Derek reached a house Stiles, at first, didn’t recognise. Upon taking a closer look he did however identify it as the Argents’ old residence. He wondered briefly why Derek had brought them here when he suddenly realised that his hands were smaller, his limbs long and gangly and that the only thoughts in his head were his own. If it weren’t so strange, Stiles would have breathed a sigh of relief._

_He contemplated going in when he heard a howl that sounded so familiar it made the bile rise up in Stiles’ mouth. Derek. He opened the door, surprised to find it unlocked and looked for the wolf. The house felt as if there were about a thousand eyes watching him- he wouldn’t put it past Veronica or Chris to have installed a camera system. Stiles quickly determined the source of Derek’s cries to come from the basement._

_Once again, he thought to himself- the basement of the Argents. He really hated this room. Even if it wasn’t the same Gerard had caught him in but it looked just alike._

_And then he saw him._

_God._

_He was beautiful._

_Majestic._

_Stiles couldn’t stop staring at the animal. The deep, black fur, the piercing eyes, a startling mixture of green, grey and blue and the play of pure muscle underneath the fur. It made Stiles wonder for a minute, why Derek was an actual wolf instead of in his Beta-shift. It made sense, he thought, since it was Derek’s wolf he was here to unlock. He just hadn’t taken that literally. Huh. Suddenly, he imagined himself in Isaac’s head, in Scott’s._

_What would their wolves look like?_

_He was willing to bet that they’d much more resembled puppies than that wolf in from of him. Because, frankly, he was a little bit scared. Despite rummaging through Derek’s memories, especially the ones of Stiles, he wasn’t sure how fond the wolf was of him. Maybe it did want to tear Stiles’ throat out, with its teeth, who knew?_

_Now, the wolf howled, rattling against the walls of the cage it was being held by. Stiles felt sympathetic. He wanted to reach out and pet its head, but wasn’t sure it would be welcomed or appreciated. A sound to his right made him press against the wall, flattening himself until he was invisible from the door._

_Then they entered. Stiles had to clamp his mouth shut so hard, he tasted blood._

_Gerard._

_And then a second figure, with female curves, a light bounce in her step._

_Kate._

_The hairs on his neck rose once they crouched down until they were eye-to-eye with Derek- or Derek’s wolf. The longer Stiles stood there, the harder it was to differentiate the two. It hit him then that the reason for this was that they were one, not two different sides. Derek was his wolf. Stiles reeled back when he thought about what that must have felt like for Derek, not to be able to access a part of him. His attention was brought back to the cage once the sound of electricity hit his ears. His stomach churned angrily when the cattle-prod made contact with Derek’s shoulder._

_The wolf roared, if in pain or anger was hard to tell. It took everything Stiles had to stop himself from taking the prod away from them. He watched as Derek shied away from the walls, trying to escape and growling at them whenever he wasn’t being shocked. Time seemed to stretch, minutes or hours, Stiles didn’t know. All he did know was that he needed get Derek out of here as fast as he could. Finally, they had enough, grinning like the cat that got the canary while leaving, not even bothered to close the door. Stiles jumped into action the second the door fell closed. He frantically tried to pick the lock, having learned the skill since Scott had become a werewolf and finding it coming in handy now._

_The wolf- Derek- snuffled, slowly coming closer._

_“Hey there, Sourwolf. Just gimme a minute to get you out and then we’re gone, ‘kay?” He tried not to give away how scared he was they would come back and lock him up alongside Derek. His fingers trembled around the lock. He needed to breathe, to concentrate._

_Damn it!_

_Suddenly, he felt something wet on his hand and looked up. Derek was pushing his snout against Stiles as if to calm him down. It loosened the knot that had formed in Stiles’ chest since he had seen Derek behind those bars._

_The lock clicked open, Derek looked up at him. A tug in his belly was all the warning he got before he was violently pulled out of Derek’s head._

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles blinked his eyes open to find Deaton hovering over him like an owl- a concerned looking owl.

“Mr. Stilinski, it’s good to have you back amongst the living.” The greeting was dry as ever. Stiles needed a moment to gather his senses. He was on a table; all his limbs were intact and Derek was nowhere in sight. That last bit of information had him nearly falling off but he was steadied by Deaton.

“He is in the other room. I thought it wise for him to wake up alone.” Stiles wanted to cut in to tell the vet that Derek shouldn’t be alone now, when he was shushed.

“If you successfully unlocked his wolf he may feel threatened by another’s presence.” Understanding dawned. And Stiles had to concede Deaton had a point, still, he had to check on his Alpha. Boyfriend. Whatever.

Both Stiles and Deaton were startled by a sudden crashing sound.

“That’s it!” Stiles announced while hopping off the table.

“I’m going in.” Deaton only huffed a long sigh of exasperation.

“Derek?”

Stiles hesitantly turned the doorknob. Nobody answered. He took one step inside. And nearly fell over. He couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him. There was no sign of Derek. There was, however, a giant black wolf sitting on the ground and staring up at Stiles out of multicoloured eyes that were oh so familiar. Stiles sunk to his knees on the ground, one hand reaching for Derek.

Or, what he sincerely hoped was Derek.

“Hey, Big Guy. ’s that you?” The wolf took two steps towards Stiles who decided this was a good sign.

“Since when can you turn into a real wolf, ha?” He patted the wolf between the ears, watching in delight when it- or he?- purred. Yep. Derek was purring. And Stiles had eternal black-mail material, or would have had if it weren’t so damn adorable.

“You think you can shift back into human, buddy? I really wanna talk to you…” At those words, the wolf scowled. It was evident that he did _not_ want to talk about it. Well, Stiles didn’t want to either, but they had to, they really did. At least so that Stiles could tell him that nothing was changed between them if Derek didn’t want it to be.

When the wolf didn’t move after a minute, Stiles asked “You know how to shift back, right?” A head shake confirmed his suspicion.

“Let me get Deaton.” He scrambled towards the door, throwing a “Don’t move!” over his shoulder. The vet’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head upon being told of the wolf in his office. Never a dull day in Beacon Hills, eh?

“Derek?” Deaton asked just as hesitantly as Stiles had. The wolf had retreated to the corner furthest away from the door and was glaring at them.

“Hey Derek, it’s just Deaton. You know Deaton- stop growling! He’s gonna explain to you how you can shift back, okay?” The growling stopped, much to Stiles’ surprise, but the wolf didn’t relax otherwise. Deaton took it lightly and knelt down so that they were eye to eye. What followed was one lengthy explanation about manifesting the human body in Derek’s thoughts just like popping out his claws.

Stiles didn’t pay too much attention, too fascinated by Derek to really listen. Then his body shifted, the fur turning into skin, the fangs retreating until only Derek’s bunny teeth were showing and finally the wolf was gone and there was just Derek.

Naked Derek, Stiles realised.

He quickly averted his eyes. Not that he wasn’t interested. But the smirk on Derek’s face told him that he had smelled the sudden arousal and had likely also heard his heart beat picking up a notch.

He really hadn’t needed that, thank you very much.

“Stiles.” Derek stressed his name in a way that had Stiles’ face heat up. He was very much aware that Deaton was listening carefully.

“Come here?” And now Derek just sounded hesitant. There was a blush spreading over his cheeks and the top of his ears. Deaton coughed twice and excused himself politely. Once in touching range Derek pulled Stiles into a bone-crushing hug.

“Fragile human here…” Stiles pressed out and felt Derek’s chest rumble when he chuckled.

“Thank you,” the wolf whispered against Stiles’ shoulder, his breath tickling Stiles’ ear.

“Not a problem, Big Guy.” Stiles felt Derek’s arms around him tighten minutely.

“Wh- what did you see?” Stiles stiffened at the words he had known all along would come. He really didn’t want to answer that question, but he did it anyway.

“The fire,” Derek’s whole body locked up “Kate- when you were- when she was with you…” the wolf wasn’t breathing.

“That night in the woods- when you met me ‘n Scott.” The vice grip relaxed ever so slightly.

“That all?”

“Yes. That’s all. Was kinda funny to see myself through your eyes…” Stiles said to lighten the mood. If he was not sorely mistaken, Derek’s blush deepened.

“It _was_ private property, you know?” Derek grumbled, shoving Stiles away- not angrily, mind you.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve been saying that for eons.”

“Because it _is_.”

“That didn’t stop us from trespassing, now, did it? Maybe you should’ve put up signs: Beware of the grumpy wolf, he’ll scowl you to death!” Derek tried desperately not to laugh but lost the battle. Stiles loved when he laughed. It sounded so free, the carefully built façade gone, replaced by joy and sparkling eyes.

“I saw you too, you know? In your head. It was weird. All the other times I saw through your eyes like I was in you,” Stiles realised the terrible innuendo but didn’t pay it any attention.

“But it wasn’t really you- more like- your wolf. In Argents’ basement. And there was this- this wall, like in a cell and you were pacing from side to side,” Stiles contemplated about how much would be wise to reveal. He didn’t need to remind Derek of all the times he had been held captive by the Argents.

“I picked the lock and that’s when I woke up on Deaton’s table. So I think that maybe- I don’t know- your wolf was literally locked away? And I had to just… let it out?” He ended on a question mark.

“It felt like a snap…” Derek said after a while “like snapping out of myself. And then I woke up and everything was wrong,” there was that pout Stiles loved so much.

“One part of me that was still human in there wanted to find you but the wolf took over. It was mostly instinct,” fascinating is what it was, Stiles thought to himself.

“When I usually shift it’s different. I’m always in control of that. But when I was a wolf it was as if someone had capped the thread to my human side, like a reverse.”

“So how did Deaton get through to you?”

“I don’t know- I guess I wasn’t too far gone…”

“You think you can do it again? Shift fully, I mean?” Stiles’ curiosity had been peeked. Derek seemed unsure but willing to try.

“I’ll get Deaton if you can’t shift back.” Derek simply nodded, closed his eyes and concentrated hard. It took a minute but then his body started changing and before he knew it, he was on all fours and looking up at Stiles. This time, he found his control perfectly intact, his senses sharpened but not overwhelmingly so. For a moment, Derek tested out how far he could hear- Scott’s car had just arrived in the parking lot- how well he could see in the room and how loudly Stiles’ heart beat in front of him.

“Can you shift back?” Derek concentrated again, focussing on the way his human body felt like in contrast to the animal. This time, it worked faster, almost without any effort. He curiously let his fangs elongate separately once he was back to human, wanting to know if his Beta-shift was still there.

It was, apparently, because Stiles complained loudly about having a split lip. Well, timing had never been his forte and considering Stiles had leaned in to kiss him right then when his teeth were growing rapidly, the minor injury came to no surprise.

At least not to Derek.

“Sorry,” Derek mumbled, a mixture of shame and giddiness in his chest that felt quite uncomfortable.

“No fangs. Seriously, Derek. We’ve talked about this…” Stiles huffed, wiping away the smear of blood on his mouth. Derek’s eyes zeroed in on the way his lips looked, swollen and tender. The urge to lean in and take was suddenly very insistent.

He only refrained because Scott’s steps- that kid ran like a hoard of elephants on a rampage- were coming closer at a fast pace.

Finally, the crooked-jawed boy burst in with a smile as wide as the Canyon and pulled Derek into a hug.

“Deaton called!” He said with ways of an explanation for that sudden assault.

“I knew you could do it!” Derek loved the way Stiles’ heart beat picked up at the compliment. He had seen how much Stiles constantly berated himself often enough to understand this was a great boost of confidence.

“You called the pack already? Erica’s buzzing out of her skin somewhere. I can feel her. It’s…” Scott kept on rambling to Stiles with the speed of lightning but Derek concentrated on the feeling his chest where the bond was connecting him to the other members of the pack.

There was Isaac’s relief, Erica’s joy, Scott’s enthusiasm, Boyd’s calm, Jackson’s anger settling and then there was Stiles.

Even before they had discovered the Spark in him, Derek had felt some level of connection. Afterwards, that very connection had blossomed into a strong bond, now transmitting so much emotion Derek didn’t know how to process it all. He watched Stiles intently, the soft smile on his face and the light in his eyes and decided that he would do everything it took to put that look there as often as he could.

“What are you smiling at?” Stiles asked, effectively ripping Derek out of his sappy thoughts. 

“Nothing.” He wasn’t sure Stiles was ready for the serenade he had been making up in his head. And he was suddenly immensely thankful that Stiles hadn’t been audience to one of his more recent memories.

It might scare him away after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Pack movie night escalated when Jackson offered to buy pizza from that expensive place that served them with marvellous cheese-crust. Stiles felt content cuddling up to Isaac on the couch while Lydia was swishing over something on her tablet. He had missed this, the safety, the feeling of being surrounded by family. The tension of the last weeks had lifted. Now, there was something light in the air, something warm.

And it made Stiles sleepy.

That was how he found himself sandwiched between Derek and Isaac, both wolves radiating heat that had his forehead collecting sweat. He looked around and found the other members of the pack asleep, some in rather strange positions. Like Jackson, who was half-way hanging off the couch, and Allison sitting up against the back of the chair, her head bobbing ever so slightly whenever she moved. Stiles was tempted to take a photo of Lydia drooling onto- what Stiles suspected was- a very expensive jacket. He didn’t in fact, for two reasons: one, Lydia would likely kill him and two, he was far too comfortable to move.

Just then, Derek stirred, sitting up without waking Isaac.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanna go to bed…” Stiles yawned. Derek offered him a hand after untangling himself and helped him up.

For some reason, this time the situation had an air of something different to it, far from the light-heartedness when they had shared a bed before. Stiles’ face was burning and he desperately wanted to put the blame on the heat. The stairs suddenly didn’t take long to climb at all and Stiles found his knees hit the bed before he could even ponder over the implications. Derek’s eyes were almost all pupil now and Stiles wasn’t sure if from the darkness or something else.

The short distance between them was quickly closed, lips connecting ever so slightly, a mere breeze of a touch. Stiles reached for Derek’s shoulders to steady himself, to hold onto something. Derek’s hands found their way to Stiles’ waist, slowly dropping lower until he hit the waistband of his jeans.

A moan escaped Stiles at the feeling of Derek pulling him closer.

“Do you want to lay down?” Derek’s voice sounded husky, like gravel and it made Stiles want to rip off that damned shirt he was still wearing. At the nod of his head Derek picked him up, Stiles legs automatically going around Derek to keep his balance.

His back hit the bed. Derek was immediately on top of him, leaving fiery kisses all over his neck and collarbone, where he had pulled the shirt down. Stiles’ hands hit Derek’s belt and he felt the wolf stiffen above him. A hand was put over his, halting all motion. Stiles nearly bemoaned the stop but looked up to find Derek staring down with something in his eyes that reminded Stiles of the fifteen-year-old boy in the mirror that day when Kate had come over.

Stiles scrambled away, putting as much distance between them as he could. He never wanted to see that look again.

“Sorry- I…” Derek stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles noticed his hand was trembling.

“No- Derek, it’s okay. I didn’t want to…”

“I just- I never- after her-“ Yep. Right in the gut. He had feared that was the reason for the sudden stop-and-go system they had been engaging in for the last months.

“It’s alright. I get it. You don’t have to apologise-“ He wanted to hug Derek but wasn’t sure it was what Derek wanted right now.

“Do you think…” he paused.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” It was whispered so quietly Stiles almost didn’t catch it. Almost. But he had and it broke his heart.

“Listen to me! There is nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me? Derek. There is nothing wrong with you at all.” He scooted closer, still carefully not touching.

“I saw what she did. I was there. In your head. Okay? And all I saw was a boy who was in love and a woman who used that to hurt him. There is nothing wrong with you. It was her. It was all her. Not you. Never you…” Derek still didn’t look like he believed him but the trembling had stopped, the haunted expression on his face had gone.

“Stiles…” Derek fell forward, pulling Stiles in flush against his chest. He seemed to heave a sigh of relief, breathing out shakily.

“I’m sorry I ruined the mood…”

“You want to go to sleep, Sourwolf?” Stiles asked, laying down and shuffling to the left so that Derek had space beside him. The wolf smiled at him with soft eyes.

It was the last thing Stiles remembered before falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_A fox crossed Derek’s path on his usual perimeter run in the preserve. He tended to do them less now that the monsters of the weeks had decreased in frequency and had become more monsters of the month. Maybe that was why he didn’t pay that much attention to where he was going or he would have realised that there was someone following him._

_As it was, he had been so focused on the beauty of the fox, its vibrant red colour and shrewd expression that he didn’t hear anyone approaching until he was hit over the head._

_He came to with the headache of the century that quickly became less strong the longer he managed to keep his eyes open. It was the exact moment he realised where he was that the headache subsided._

_A basement. Of all the fucking things it had to be a basement yet again. Derek was frankly exhausted. And slightly amused that the voice in his head complaining that whoever had taken him wasn’t more creative sounded an awful lot like Stiles. A door opened then, somewhere to his right where he couldn’t see, and the hairs on his arms suddenly rose. His body had reacted without him, throwing him into panic mode without even knowing who had taken him._

_Only when he breathed in deeply did the scent trigger his heart rate spiking up._

_**Kate.** _

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was pacing up and down in the loft, alternating between staring at the clock and at his phone. Derek had gone missing. He had said he’d be back by five and now it was seven and no sign of the Alpha. Stiles desperately hoped he was overreacting but chances were, he wasn’t.

So, a call was made to Scott, who in turn called Allison and so on until every member of the pack was present in Derek’s loft without the Alpha being there himself.

“Do you have his route? Did he tell you where he was going?”

“The usual perimeter run.”

“Then let’s go!” Stiles was out of the door before anyone could react. On the way, Stiles was trying to locate Derek using all of his magical arsenal. Shortly before running out of options one spell finally worked. The point that Derek was clearly at flared up in a bright red on the map Lydia was holding in her lap. Stiles’ heart stopped when he realised exactly where the Alpha was. Argent.

Allison seemed just as shocked as he was but he saw determination flash in her eyes. It was almost comforting.

“My Dad’s not in it. He’s not even in town.” She promised. Not that Stiles had thought Chris was working with them. The guy had been their friendly-neighbourhood hunter for more than a long time now. Stiles trusted the man.

Even with his life if it came to it.

 

* * *

 

 

_About three minutes into Kate prodding him with a cattle prod, Derek realised that she didn’t know he wasn’t human anymore or she would have turned the electricity up a notch. As it was, the burns hurt but not as badly as they could have._

_B_ _ut he played it up alright. Wouldn’t do him any good to make her aware of his return to the supernatural while she had him under her control. Still, he really hoped at least someone from the pack was on their way._

_He counted on Stiles having figured it out._

_In the end, he always did._

 

* * *

 

 

The door flew open and chaos ensued. Stiles had a hard time concentrating on who was on his side and who was on theirs. Suddenly, pain exploded in his leg, making him fall to the ground in a heap of blood. He tried to get up but his knee wouldn’t support him.

Someone yanked him up by his hair.

“Stop it!” a female voice he knew all too well screeched into his ear. Stiles was vaguely aware that the fighting seemed to stop. He wasn’t able to see what with the position he was being held in but he was fairly sure that there couldn’t be more than three hunters, apart from Kate, that were left standing.

“Step back or I shoot his head off!” Stiles willed his upcoming panic to back down. He was painfully aware of the shot wound gaping in his leg and the gun pointed against his temple. The trembling of his limbs increased, his heart rate picked up and his vision blurred. He needed to breathe- he reminded himself.

“Let him go!” Derek’s deep voice echoed from the walls. Stiles’ heart leapt in his chest when he saw the wolf move slowly forward in his peripheral vision. Everything inside of him wanted to scream at Derek to get the fuck out but he couldn’t.

“I said: let him go!” There was something dangerous about him, something that Stiles had never seen him exhibit.

“That’s sweet, Derek.” Kate said, voice smooth as honey. Her grip tightened to a point where Stiles feared she would rip out all his hair and scalp him.

“What are you gonna do? Come at me?” Stiles didn’t understand why she was that confident. Derek was an Alpha after all, and not the worst one there was. He felt the cold metal against his head and it suddenly dawned on him. She didn’t know. Kate didn’t know Derek wasn’t human anymore. Her information wasn’t up to date. He had half a mind to stop the laughter from bubbling up. But that was quickly overcome when Kate aimed at Derek instead of Stiles.

“You take one more step, Derek and I’ll blow your brains out!” She sounded like a snake, hissing the words at him. Derek didn’t pay her any mind. Instead, he took another menacing step closer.

“I mean it, Derek!” If Stiles wasn’t sorely mistaken, there was fear in her voice. Once again, Derek didn’t listen. The wolf kept one eye on the gun and one on Stiles. Then the first shot fell. It hit him right in the arm and kept walking.

Stiles saw the moment her mistake registered in Kate’s mind. She shoved him away and turned on her heel. The pack fell into motion the second Stiles was out of her grip. Derek jumped in front of Stiles, shielding him from the bullets that tore his shirt and ripped his skin.

“Enough!” Derek bellowed. And then there was a large black wolf in front of Stiles. Wolves and hunters stopped every movement. The expression on Kate’s face was caught in horror. Derek growled, saliva dripping from elongated fangs.

And then he pounced.

Stiles heard a shriek and suddenly, nothing. The silence was deafening. Derek turned to him, blood caught in his fur, making it stick up.

The remaining hunters took that as their sign to run for their lives. The pack let them. They were too caught up in the sight that was Derek Hale. He had transformed back into human again, the holes in his chest visible were the bullets were stuck inside him. Stiles reeled at the sight, the pain in his leg almost forgotten. He got up so fast that his knees gave out under him. Luckily, Jackson was there to catch him. Derek looked at him with an odd mixture of relief and amusement, a bit of trauma was hidden somewhere in there too.

“Glad you came,” Derek said in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. It was the exact moment Stiles’ heart realised that the danger was over.

He did the only logical thing at the adrenaline rush leaving him: he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

 

He really hated waking up on Deaton’s operation table. Really. This was getting ridiculous. And what more, this time, the broody Alpha was nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton sighed down by his leg “While I am glad to be of assistance, I would appreciate it if you would take better care of yourself.”

Stiles shared the sentiment. After waiting patiently- or as patiently as he could- until Deaton had fished out the bullet and stitched the wound back together until asking what he had wanted to the moment he had opened his eyes.

“Where is he?” Deaton rolled his eyes but told him Derek was at home and taking care of himself.

“Oh and Mr. Stilinski?”

“Hm?”

“Do be more careful in the future…” With that, Stiles headed out, phone already in hand and dialling the number he knew by memory. He was stomping towards his Jeep in the parking lot, painfully aware of the pain in his leg and him being in no condition to drive. Derek picked up after two rings, sounding sheepish when mumbling out a “hello”.

“I swear to fucking God, Hale- if there is even one freaking bullet left inside of you when I come in here, I will kick your ass so bad you’ll feel it all the way to Mexico!” Stiles yelled into the phone. Derek winced at the volume, holding the device slightly away from his ear. He hadn’t meant to get shot eight times. It had just happened. He couldn’t just let Kate hurt Stiles.

“You shouldn’t be driving, you know?” Derek said meekly and instantly wished, he hadn’t.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck you, Hale! Seriously, fuck you!” Stiles hung up and stepped so hard on the gas pedal that his Jeep made a complaining sound. He didn’t let up on the speed until he screeched to a halt in Derek’s parking lot. That his leg protested when he jumped out of the Jeep was of no interest to him.

“Stiles…” Derek said when Stiles ripped open the door.

“Don’t you Stiles me!” He jabbed a finger at his chest making Derek step back.

“You could have died!” Stiles yelled. “You could have died and you don’t even care!”

“But I didn’t… those were normal bullets-“

“You didn’t know that! Fuck!” Stiles pulled at his hair, anger seeping through him hotly.

“She didn’t know I wasn’t human anymore! I took a- a calculated risk…” Derek had the gall to say.

Stiles spluttered. “A calculated risk?”

“Yes.”

“Derek you can’t just throw yourself into that- you can’t just do that…” His anger was slowly ebbing down, frustration and worry replacing it.

“What if it hadn’t been normal bullets? You’d be dead. Derek- I can’t-“

“But they were!”

“What if they weren’t!” Tears were burning in Stiles’ eyes. He needed to make Derek understand.

“Stiles-“

“No!” he turned away from the wolf, not wanting him to see how scared he had been.

“Stiles- look at me…” He was spun around, fingers lifting his chin.

“She didn’t know I wasn’t human anymore. I knew that. And she had you with a gun against your head. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing when chances were that the bullets wouldn’t hurt me. She could have killed you…” Derek looked at him intently as if trying to convey something with his eyes that his mouth couldn’t say.

“I needed to do something.”

“I get that-“

“You would have done the same thing.” Stiles wanted to protest but was shushed.

“If it were me- you would have done the exact same thing.” Soft lips touched Stiles’, shutting him up before he could even try to deny it.

“I’m sorry…” Derek murmured, breath making his skin tingle. Stiles leaned in closer, grabbing for Derek just to have him near, to make sure he was really there and alright. The kiss grew heavier, Stiles’ blood was rushing in his ears, his heart beat picking up in rate. Derek moaned into his mouth once Stiles let his hips grind against Derek’s. Just when Stiles’ hands found their way underneath Derek’s shirt, roaming over muscles, Derek pulled back.

“How is your leg?” Derek just had to ruin the mood, didn’t he? The pain simmering right under the surface announced its presence more adamantly than before. On second thought, Stiles was grateful for the opportunity to sit down. Derek pulled his jeans up to look at the wound.

“Wait here.” and with that, he left Stiles sitting on a chair and contemplating his existence. He had really been up for more fun times. Seriously, he wanted to have sexy times with Derek. Soon. That was when Derek chose to magically reappear, holding out a flyer or booklet that Stiles had never seen before.

“According to this we need to elevate it.”

“What is this exactly?” Stiles asked since he couldn’t see what Derek was reading.

“Oh- I- I bought it when I was human.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Derek’s ears turned red and he was shuffling his feet.

“I- it’s for first aid.” Huh. “I bought it because I realised that I had no idea how to help you when you get hurt and you hurt yourself every other week.” Stiles wanted to take offence to that but after reflecting decided that Derek did have a point there.

“I never- when I was human- I’m sorry, okay?” Stiles didn’t know exactly what it was Derek was sorry for but he wasn’t left to ponder for too long since Derek was already continuing to talk.

“I never paid attention when you were hurt- with the Pixies or the Kanima or Gerard or the Nogitsune. And I know it’s not an excuse but I- I was born a wolf- I always had supernatural healing so I didn’t really understand what- what it was like for you…”

And he looked it too.

Stiles felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he reached for Derek’s shirt to pull him in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I would love to read your opinion in the comments. If you enjoyed it, let me know and leave kudos.


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